"Raven Rose : Origins ch. 5-7" by Michelle B. Lackey

Sunlight flooded the quiet living room the next morning. Outside, typical morning sounds – chirping birds, people wandering the streets, the occasional android passing by – it all continued on as if the world hadn’t changed a bit. Morning dew even clung to the grass as it had done for as long as anyone could conceivably remember.

Chink-chink… chink-chink…

I have got to get that stupid fan fixed, Devon thought idly from where he was sitting on the couch. He had been sitting there nearly two hours, contemplating what had happened the night before. Sighing, he thought, Staring at the floor appears to have become my favorite hobby.

Rachel had accepted him with such ease that he was still a little shocked from the experience. He could see it clearly in his mind, her shocked expression vanishing the moment she had realized he could leave if she wanted him to and the desperate way she had clung to him until she had finally fallen asleep. It should have been enough, but Devon still wasn’t so sure. She didn’t really know him anymore and he wasn’t too sure he wanted to share. All they had really established was that her father and dog was the same person.

Not that that really creates an amazing and wonderful family reunion. ‘Hello! Meet my father, the family pet.’ Oh yeah, real smooth, he thought sardonically. Still… He scratched the back of his neck self-consciously with his furred hand. This isn’t something that I can accept as easily as she can, innocent nine year old or not. A lot more has changed than she knows and, despite Nova Savannah being my commanding officer, I don’t really think she needs to know.

“Nebula Flyer Devon? Hello? Aloha? Testing – 1 – 2,” said the redhead’s voice from – nowhere?

Speaking of which…

“Those fools told me this stupid communications gizmo worked. You there somewhere, Ramorgue? Hopefully? Anybody? De-evon? He-ello-o!”

“Delarama?” he asked the air, stunned.

“Blast, isn’t there some way to tell whenever this thing is working?” she asked, annoyance coating her words. “Hello? Hello? Hey, cool effect. Echo! Echo!” Murmurs of static drifted about the room for a moment, voices too far from whatever device she was using to transmit clearly. “Yes, stupid, I know he can probably hear me along with half the city. Your fault for not leaving clear instructions on how to operate a fancy walky-talky. The crap you morons put me through is ridiculous.” More static. “All this technology and that’s the best you can do. Curses. Fine, blast it. Devon… or whoever happens to be hearing this, you have to find the cute little black box that this racket is emanating from. The guards were supposed to leave it in an obvious place, but years of undercover training can be a little difficult to break.”

Somewhere obvious, but not in plain sight. Following his ears with Delarama’s running commentary about morons and a few more instances of her toying with her voice, Devon finally found a small black box near the rear leg of the couch. “Savannah?”

“It’s been almost an hour going through this ridiculous sham,” she shot at some unseen scientist. “I know you people are retarded, but I doubt a foot soldier is as dense as you white-coats. Difficult to get along with perhaps, but at least he can understand an order the moment it’s given to him. Fools like you have no imagination whatsoever.” It felt good to hear her ranting again.

“Nova Savannah, I found it,” Devon said calmly, pressing the blue button.

“Fantastic!” she shouted in return, nearly deafening him. “Wait, how did you manage to talk back without instructions?”

Devon stood stupidly for a moment. There are so many ways to answer that, Delarama. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret. The blue button says ‘Talk’.”

“Ha! Told you he’d figure it out!” she shouted. More static murmurings came over the little comm. unit, but Savannah ignored them. “Time for a status report. When the suits left yesterday, they reported in that Rachel was rather out of sorts. Did you get that taken care of and did you reveal to Rachel who you were?”

“Yes, on both counts.”

“All the vampire werewolf goodness?”

“Some of it.” A pause. “Right, none of it. She just knows I’m… well, me.”

“Devon.”

“I don’t really feel like sharing,” he said defensively. “I just got her back and I don’t want to terrify her. Frankly, she’s doing a better job of accepting this than I am.”

The little unit crackled with laughter. “Fine, but you might want to tell her a little more. I went by Rachel’s school to investigate your claim about a vampire of exceptional caliber and found some rather interesting tidbits of information. I need to brief you – pronto.”

“What about Rachel?”

“Bring her with you; this concerns her a little as well. I’ll phone in the location later so hang onto that little piece of junk.” Static filled protests of indignation on the other end made him smile. “But for pity’s sake, Devon, just call me ‘Red’. Over and out. Now shut it, you little-!” The comm. abruptly turned off. Not really knowing what else to do with it, Devon put it on the coffee table and stared at it.

What could have been so important in that school that she couldn’t speak with me here or in her FFV? She didn’t sound unsettled or worried, but she has never asked me to move on such quick notice unless Jeeveson was involved. Perhaps there was something there connecting him to all this madness? Devon spun his thoughts about, trying to make sense of all the confusing information being thrown at him. If that were the case, what would a perfectly dead human scientist and an ancient exiled vampire want with Rachel, or me for that matter? It’s not like we’re some government secret or anything. All that mess is handled by the top brass. Someone must think I had access to it. Boy, they’ll sure be in for a surprise.

“Daddy?” Rachel asked, making him jump. So absorbed in his thoughts, Devon hadn’t noticed her standing in the middle of the floor. Wrapped in her favorite blanket, she was clutching one of her stuffed animals.

“Yes?” he answered softly. Don’t scare her, stupid. She’s still just a kid.

She moved to sit by him, eyes tracing his humanlike form. “I thought last night was a dream.” Once she was seated, Rachel wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face in his dark fur. “I missed you.” She was crying again.

“I missed you, too,” he said gently as he wrapped an arm around her. “Please, stop crying. I hate seeing pretty little girls cry.”

“It’s over, right?” she asked in a small voice as she wiped away her tears. “You’re going to stay here with me and never leave again, aren’t you? If you’re here, those shadows will go away, won’t they?”

“Shadows?”

“The ones that follow me around. I don’t know who they are, but they follow me everywhere except home. They’re always at school and watching Theo, but they’ll leave if you scare them away, right?”

Delarama, you idiot. You told me she knew nothing about that. You really should learn a few more things about kids. “I’m sorry, Rachel, but it isn’t over yet. We have to go meet Savannah to find out why people keep following you around. Then it’ll get better, alright? Can you be my brave little girl?”

“I guess… Daddy, will you leave me again?”

“No,” he said decisively, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. “Now, go get some clothes on. Today’s going to be a big day.”

I hope Savannah is cursed by any and all things remotely stronger than a vampire, Devon thought icily. First she calls in to tell us we have to meet her in godforsaken nowhere, then we have to be there as quickly as possible only to wait on her sagging butt for four hours under the baking sun because she insisted that we stand somewhere visible from the air for a speedy pick up. He shook his neck in an attempt to loosen the sweat matted fur.

It was well past noon now, but Devon stood tall as Rachel hovered beside his black leg. Since there was no one in sight – they were nearly seventy miles from anything resembling civilization aside from the abandoned bus stop behind them – he wasn’t worried about anyone seeing him as a ‘wolf man’. Still, he kept scanning the area around them warily. Whenever the wind shifted, there was an odd smell in the air. It was neither human nor vampire but had been trailing them steadily since they had left Karvin City.

That was some five or six hours ago though, so they have got to be pretty desperate to sit out here in this blasted sun.

“Red? Red, come in,” Rachel nervously asked the little comm. She had been doing this every few minutes so far, but the other end was completely silent. “Daddy, she is coming, isn’t she?” Behind them, he could literally feel eyes watching him.

“I want you to be ready to run, Rachel,” he said in a low voice. “Something isn’t right. She should’ve been here by now.” He looked about him, scenting the breeze and straining to listen. The old sign swung lazily on rusted chains, creaking loudly to his oversensitive hearing. “It’s too quiet.” Rachel listened and tried to understand what he meant.

“I don’t hear any birds.”

Ssss!

Hearing something whiz past her head, Rachel ducked instinctively as Devon roared angrily before staggering forward onto his knees. She looked up, terrified that he was threatening her, but she saw something glitter in his fur. There were two needles buried in his fur at the base of his neck. Something flashed out of the corner of her eye and she saw another needle buried in his lower back. It was injecting some kind of milky blue substance into him, causing him to stagger. Snarling with pain and anger, Devon’s hand flew to his neck in a quest for what had hit him. The moment he felt them, he ripped the offending needles out, casting them to the ground as if they were some disease. Without thinking, Rachel grabbed the needle in his back and yanked it out. A small drop of the liquid fell on her and she cried out in pain as it burned.

“Rachel!” he called, reaching out and pulling her closer to him. Growling over her head at the forests beyond, he didn’t see the FFV soaring toward them from over the trees. The black car was hurtling towards them at a ridiculous speed, Red’s brilliant hair hanging out the window.

“It’s Red!” she shouted.

“Start running!” Devon ordered as he pushed Rachel forward with his hand. He was struggling to stand, stumbling as he blinked rapidly. It was almost as if he was fending off sleep.

“Daddy-?”

“Keep running until you reach Savannah!” Hesitating, Rachel watched in horror as Devon staggered onto his feet, but the sound of guns firing frightened her into action. She hurtled toward the vehicle as bullets peppered the ground all about her feet. As she ran, she fought the urge to look back.

What if he’s falling? What if he got shot? Her mind flew as she ran toward the FFV and the single person that could save them. What if he doesn’t come back?

Answering shots from Red’s direction shook Rachel awake, causing her to falter. Seeing her, the Nova Flyer shouted, “I’m not shooting at you! I’m going to pick you up! Keep moving!” Red’s arm was hanging out the open door, free hand reaching towards her as the soaring vehicle come rumbling towards her. Rachel made straight for it as bullets collided with the windshield inches from the driver’s head. Swerving, the man nearly pulled the FFV out of reach. Jumping, the little girl grasped Red’s harness desperately as the woman fired another round over her shoulder.

“Holy-!” Pulling Rachel in at the last moment, Savannah slammed the door shut as bullets peppered the vehicle’s side causing small dents to run down its side. “That was far too close.”

“My dad is out there!” Rachel protested as Red unfastened the belts that had held her. “We have to get him! He can’t fight them alone!”

“You’d be surprised what your father can do,” Savannah answered coldly, pulling herself into the front seat. “For one thing, he most definitely isn’t hanging around out there waiting to get shot unlike us. Why are we still level with the trees? Get us out of here!” Faint echoes of gunfire ran down Rachel’s spine like fingers of ice.

“Yes, s-!” the driver started. A bullet tore through a weak point in the windshield and tore the man’s sunglasses off on impact. He fell back with a dull thud as blood splattered the back of the seat, lifeless. Frantic, Red grabbed the wheel and steered the large vehicle into a somewhat sheltered area between nearby trees… sort of. The flying car hit with such impact that the great trees shivered and birds took flight.

Coughing, Delarama pulled herself upright. “Rachel? Rachel, are you alright?” The moment sunlight touched her air, bullets rattled off the windshield, completely shattering it. Ducking, she wiggled behind the seat, but the sight of Rachel made her freeze.

“It’s… it’s…” The girl was sprinkled with blood from the dead driver. Staring at her hands, she was on the verge of hysteria.

She’s never seen blood, Red realized. Never like this or so much of it – that’s right, she’s just a child. To her, blood is covered with a bandage and kissed to make it feel better. “Look at me, Rachel,” she commanded, shaking the younger girl. “Look at me.”

“It’s… it’s warm,” the girl said suddenly, eyes finally focusing on Red. Her tone struck the bounty hunter to the core.

She isn’t scared… she actually–

Coming to her senses, Rachel stared at Red in shock. “What-?” she started, but Red covered her mouth.

“Just be quiet. If they hear us, we’re as good as dead. Hopefully, they believe that we were killed when they fired at me through the windshield.” Curses, Devon, what are you people?

“If they don’t?” Rachel protested, slightly muffled by Red’s fingers.

“They’re shooting at Devon, your dad,” was the whispered answer. “Just sit perfectly still. Few people investigate fallen vehicles since many die on impact. If it doesn’t move, they shouldn’t realize that we are alive.”

“Can’t you do anything?”

“I wish I could, but to get out of here would expose me completely and I have no idea where the enemy is. It would be suicide.” The young girl shivered as bullets ricocheted off the metal sides, dents appearing everywhere. It felt like an eternity to be trapped in the shadows, waiting for the gunfire to finally stop. Terrified now, Rachel waited where she was. Time just kept ticking by, just kept continuing on until she thought they were trapped in a nightmare. There was no way out, no way to get free…

A man’s scream tore through the air, searing through both of their hearts in the shadowy darkness. Suddenly, the air became stale and heavy with the heat of day, pounding in their ears. They waited, their breath seeming louder than normal, but no more shots were fired and no more bullets came. However, when Rachel started forward, Red motioned for her to remain still.

“We don’t know why they stopped.”

“But-”

Footsteps echoed through the mangled FFV. Red cocked her gun and aimed carefully. An instant later, the door was ripped off its hinges! Glaring down at them, Devon snarled in anger. The entire dog appearance had vanished. He was a mountain of fury and muscle now, the same creature that Red had taped on the base ages ago.

“Daddy!” Rachel shouted happily, tears swelling in her eyes as she reached for him, but Red was more cautious.

“Devon,” the Nova Flyer said warningly, never dropping her weapon as she restrained Rachel with her free hand. “Devon, answer me.” The wolf snarled.

“Everything has gone according to plan.” Dressed completely in dark purple and black, Tamara waited as her employer sat quietly on the other side of the elegant desk in the dark room. A blend of cherry and mahogany, it was quite a sight to behold, but she kept her eyes focused on the intricate rug beneath its curved feet. Making eye contact with her boss was strictly forbidden unless he first invited the act. To do so brought instant death for any of his underlings. Sensing her fear, he smiled; delicate eyeteeth that were a little more pointed than necessary poked out from under his lip.

“So, she is trapped with the beast?” he asked in a heavy, ponderous voice. It was rich and low, a voice that made many women swoon with lust. Tamara cringed.

“Indeed, both of them.”

“Both?” he inquired, eyes lighting with interest.

“Yes, young Rachel Ramorgue and Savannah ‘Red’ Delarama are both stranded.”

“Were all shooters lost?” Eyes becoming dull once again with their normal lack of sincere interest, the man thumbed through the book lying before him. Most likely it was from the extensive collection that lined the walls.

“Yes.”

“Good, good, no loose ends to be tied up.” The man stood and dismissed her with a single wave. “I have a party to get to and I don’t want to be late. We shall finish this report later.” Grateful to have an excuse to become scarce, the woman bolted for the door. With a chuckle, he headed for another that stood quietly behind his chair. The moment he opened it, however, cheers greeted him from the next room. “Sorry to be late, House Delarama!” he called. His green eyes sought out Karoline’s older sister, Carli. The brilliant blonde could be seen talking to her dark-headed sister near the refreshment table. He smiled. Soon they would be the only Delarama sisters.

“Ah, hello, Michael,” Carli said happily as he approached. “I trust your business deal went through?”

“Even smoother than the last deal I made on behalf of your family, my beauty. Have you seen my fiancé anywhere? I have great news for her.” Laughing, she playfully punched him as he kissed her lightly to smother her giggles. “Things are going beautifully, love.” Looking about, he noticed that one familiar face was missing from the crowd. “Karoline, where is Little Sarah?”

“By the fireplace admiring that puppy you bought for her. She seems to be absolutely fascinated by it,” Karoline said in a sweet and docile voice.

“Who knows, perhaps it will grant her wishes, huh?” Michael asked smoothly. Excusing himself from the ladies’ attentions, he moved to where Sarah was playing with the small golden pup. “Hello, little miss.”

Upon his approach, the puppy had jumped into Sarah’s arms and buried its head into the curve of her arm. Sarah couldn’t really blame her. There was something about Michael that made her skin crawl whenever he was near, a certain facet of his character that made her long to slip away the moment he appeared even remotely interested in her. She always hoped he would leave, even now, but he never did. He was so terrifyingly patient as he waited for her to respond, almost daring her to ignore him behind that fake smile. What Aunt Carli saw in him, she would never understand.

“Hello, Mr. Tandramour, sir,” she answered. Mercifully, a man in black and purple waved to him from the other side of the room. Excusing himself as if she required the same respect as the adults, Michael hurried away. It was one of House Tandramour’s servants. Sarah personally thought they were slaves and bodyguards instead of maids or butlers, but said nothing as he went away. Everyone trusted him and respected him as the heir to his family’s fortune.

She hated him with a passion. Whenever there was an inconvenience that deprived him of some measure of respect, she secretly cheered. Even now, as the puppy licked her cheek, she felt joy in watching his composure erode ever so slightly upon hearing what the servant whispered to him. Little did she know, he hated her with a fury that far surpassed her own – no, he hated her as much as he hated Savannah Delarama, a woman she didn’t know.

“Devon, answer me.”

Within his mind, Devon felt as if he were waking up after a long nap. For a moment, the world was dark, but then sunlight dribbled in and fuzzy objects managed to regain enough clarity to resemble faces. He snarled in pain as his head throbbed uncontrollably.

It was the needles, he realized. Whatever the needles had injected into his system had corroded the tentative control he had fought so hard to maintain over the primitive mind. With that small bit of strength disintegrating, the wolf in him had come forth so strongly that he had been completely overwhelmed.

Shaking his head to free it of the last bits of numbing fog, he pressed the bestial mind down, tightening his grip on it once more. What he hadn’t expected was the sudden onslaught of images and sounds that hit him in a rush as he restored his composure. It had never happened before, the time spent as a mindless beast were simply gaps in his memory, but not this time. Stumbling backward, he felt his body shrinking to its normal size as the strange thoughts finally faded away.

“Devon, I don’t want to fire,” Nova Savannah said flatly, holding the gun steady on its potential target as she emerged from the FFV. Rachel was right behind her. He could see and hear now, understand what had happened. There was something wrong and he narrowed his eyes.

That’s right, I remember. Her trust… can I really trust her or is that another one of her illusions? His fist tightened reflexively, but there was something in his hand. Good, I still have it.

“Red, what are you d-doing?” Rachel asked, rooted in place with fear. The woman that had protected her was now leveling a gun at her father, poised to fire. “I don’t understand.”

“Rachel, you’re right, you don’t understand. You’re just going to have to trust me on this one.” Uncertain, the girl began to pull away, but Red restrained her. Tightening her grip, the Nova Flyer inadvertently caused her to cry out in pain. Devon snarled, baring his teeth in warning. With his jaws wide, Savannah froze.

His mouth is covered in blood, but I can’t smell it, she thought quickly, keeping a good hold on Rachel. Vampire or not, that much blood should at least make my nose throw up little warning flags all over the place, but I didn’t even realize it. Fleetingly, she remembered the brief look of pleasure on Rachel’s face when she had been covered in blood.

“Let her go,” he snarled, his voice rumbling deep within his chest. The moment he spoke, Rachel’s confidence returned instantly. Clawing at Red’s hand until the woman released her, she lunged for her father. Rachel hugged his torso without fear, pulled herself so close to him that she seemed buried in his fur, and stared at Red in fear as if she were a stranger. He only responded by looping an arm loosely about her shoulders.

“I’m assuming that means you are once again in charge of your various talents,” Savannah said. Slowly lowering her gun, she stepped down off the wreckage. She was still careful to keep a few feet between them. There wasn’t any trust in Devon’s eyes at the moment and she didn’t want to test those fangs on her flesh.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” he stated.

“Huh?” came the startled response. “What are you talking about?” Noting the drying blood on his muzzle, she shivered. She still couldn’t smell it and Rachel appeared too absorbed in hugging him to notice. Devon snorted and threw a few pieces of cloth at her. Catching them deftly, she examined them for a moment. They were a single piece of a leathery material that had been ripped to shreds. Kneeling down, she rearranged them on the ground, constantly keeping an eye on Devon, but the final image made her heart skip a beat.

Two seals that she had memorized since childhood stared back at her. The words ‘Tandramour’ and ‘Delarama’ were stated clearly beneath them in an elegant script used only for those who wouldn’t recognize the seals easily. Beneath them, in that same script, were the instructions to kill a black wolf and anyone else in the vicinity. Among the delicate writing, several pale blue stains could be easily seen.

“The world is listening.”

Several hours later, Red sat back from the small fire she had managed to get going. The brush in the area had been coated with gasoline, so starting one without burning half the forest to the ground had been quite an accomplishment and she was rather proud of herself. After she was certain the little flame that crackled innocently would remain small, she looked over at Devon, but the black wolf’s gaze was intent on his daughter. Watching him, she felt a new sensation that she hadn’t experienced in a long time. True, cold, unhindered fear slithered up her spine, sending chills into the deepest crevices of her soul.

As a vampire, she shouldn’t have had any fear, especially considering a werewolf, a member of a race considered uniformly by both parties to be either on a lesser intellectual or physical level. In all the transformations she had witnessed, there had always been problems within the werewolf psyche that caused great friction between the human portion and the more feral wolf. Devon, however, presented quite the paradox. Before he entered the primitive state where he appeared to lose all self-control, his physical make-up and strength was on equal footing with most vampires. True, he wasn’t much of a threat to the higher caliber snag-toothed royalty that currently ran the vampiric society, but to those who were like her or lower…

Noticing her stare, he raised his dark and blood-soaked muzzle, a brief snarl curling his lips. She felt her skin crawl as she realized that as long as he was present, she was completely incapable of smelling the blood that coated his muzzle and chest liberally. He didn’t seem to sense it either, wearing it more like morbid finery than the life-giving ketchup (to her anyway) that it really was. Above that crimson touch, his dark eyes tried hard to burn into her very soul, the anger so intense that she felt his fury from nearly ten feet away. Pushing another shiver away defiantly, Red faced him with all the courage she could muster.

“Well?” Devon demanded. “Are you going to tell or do I need to be a little more persuasive?” He bared naked fangs at her, something the Devon she had first met would never have done. That mere act concerned her. There had to be other influences on his mind that the primitive state was causing other than the obvious.

“What about Rachel?” she stalled.

“She’s asleep. Explain what happened.” Curt, clear, and to the point – that was the Devon she knew, but she couldn’t ignore the hints. His instincts were closer to the surface than ever before. Soldiers weren’t taught to snarl at their superiors as far as she knew.

Red sighed, gathering her thoughts. “Which part first, delay or old family names?”

“The longest.”

Silence filled the air between them as Red considered the best place to start. It seemed impossible to get her thoughts in order, another problem that surfaced only when Devon was around. Considering his actions, she was going to have to overcome such menial nonsense if their paths kept crossing in the future. “Family names it is.” She took a deep breath. “Just like everyone else, there are vampires that practically run the rest of our bloodsucking population more through fear than anything else. They are our snobby aristocrats.”

“Bounty hunters?” was the callous inquiry.

“Others like me exist outside the net of influence and are often feared and known for a reputation we dug up and created ourselves. We aren’t to be underestimated by anyone.” Staring him down, Red put every ounce of willpower into an icy glare. Grim satisfaction dulled her fear’s sharp bite when he looked away. “Vampires of the more aristocratic society or ‘snobby rich people’, as you might say, are stuck in the years of medieval knights and dragons. Some are even old enough to have their ideals permanently set in the old ways of the Dark Ages. Anyway, one of the remnants from the old ideals is controlling families. Last count, there were six Houses. Two of them are Tandramour and Delarama.

“Neither House is very large when compared to the other four in sheer power and brute strength, but, together, they make up a very large portion of the vampire population. True, most members of the Houses are peace-loving individuals, but several of the younger generations are power hungry.” She sighed and looked back at the fire. It crackled merrily; innocent beneath words that unknowingly tore her heart to pieces. I had forgotten why I wanted to forget that such a place ever existed, but I guess one can’t ever truly erase memories like that. “Tandramour is said to have many servants, but the ones dressed in purple and black, the ones that protect the head of the family and the heir, are rumored to be werewolves. Delarama doesn’t possess a bodyguard system as such. Though we are more delicate as far as vampires are concerned, we still hold to the old ideal that if you cannot hold your own in the world then you aren’t worth having around.”

She was agitated and Devon could scent her fear. “Keep going.”

“I tried to connect the late Dr. Jeevenson to House Tandramour somehow, but I was unable to. As I said, the werewolf idea was a rumor. It had no logic behind it. Just as much as vampires don’t get along, werewolves do. We are just short of avoiding anyone outside of the family, but those werewolves stick together and are willing to give up their very lives to save one another. Even as a bounty hunter outside the vampiric world, that concept is as alien to me as… well, vampires were to you not so long ago. Having werewolves as bodyguards is like a human wanting a wild python to protect him since we barely get along with them anyway. It just doesn’t work. Never has.

“So, back to the point. For every, say, fifty humans in any given area, anywhere from one to fifteen of them are vamps. We have the spiffy reputation earned through the years that would be more than enough to turn happy little Earth into a feeding ground. I told you during your training that vampires don’t need human go-juice, that there have been several less tasty ways developed to get around that, but that doesn’t mean everyone wants to do without. Last time I saw vampire high society, House Tandramour was helping with the completion of a scheme that would do just that. That also didn’t make sense. In that grand plot, werewolves became slaves and dumb herd beasts. I don’t believe for a minute that they would sink that low.”

Devon waited a moment, thinking. “What would they do?”

“You would have to ask Tonya and Garlan, the werewolf leaders for specifics,” she shrugged, “but I know that people that proud would never stoop so low.”

“So, they are real? Werewolves, I mean.”

Dumbfounded, Red stared at him, her expression making him smirk. “By my blood, Devon, what the heck is wrong with you? Haven’t you looked in a mirror recently? Coming from you, that doesn’t state the obvious, that flat out screams it! Yes, they are real, you moron, but they are also secretive. Vampires and werewolves alike have problems associating with humans. Scientists like Dr. Jeevenson are to be avoided, and hopefully killed, at all cost. Don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be dissected.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the werewolves sooner?”

She twitched with anger, her fear dissipating as he regained his normally dense frame of mind. “This is why I explain in a straight line the first time, Devon. I have already told you that werewolves and vampires don’t get along. I didn’t entirely trust you and I need your help to try to discover who’s out playing with things they don’t understand. Aside from that, I didn’t want any other little twits running around trying to figure out what we were up to. Just like with my ever-so-wholesome family, there are different levels among them. You have the terrifying deadly gentlemen and women who are what many would consider ‘true’ wolves and the little twiddling wannabes. Those puppies tend to stick their noses where they shouldn’t belong, and, cliché I know, but not very many vampires or werewolves know what all is in our blood.”

“The ones who do are…?”

“The bounty hunters.” Red smiled. “Bounty hunters know more than they tell.”

“What about you? What do you know?”

Her confidence returning, she hazarded asking what was bothering her. “A great deal more than I tell, but I am curious about one thing. Why did you appear both locked in the primitive mind and sane? As the primitive beast, you should have ripped Rachel limb from limb.”

“I don’t know,” Devon answered honestly, looking at Rachel tenderly. “I heard her somehow, through the primitive instinct. I can’t really explain it.” Red just considered him, her gaze never shifting away until she looked back at the fire. Studying him so closely, it had been impossible to ignore the blood and her nagging fear had returned. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure.” He couldn’t get anything else out of her. When he asked about the delay, she only mumbled something about werewolves and then curled up to sleep. Ignoring him for the rest of the night, Red stared out into the shadows of the forest long after he had gone to sleep. It wasn’t impossible, she knew what could possibly be happening, but if her instincts were correct, she was more worried about Rachel than Devon.

Tamara read the report to her employer in a tight voice. All three of their targets had survived, but Michael Tandramour just sat there smiling. Beside him, Carli Delarama was frowning deeper and deeper by the minute. House Delarama had no sympathy for servants that couldn’t do their job. Even though the rival House refused to employ werewolves, tales and rumors about their extreme dislike of incapable servants were enough to make the most steadfast wolf tremble with fear.

Still, Michael’s smile wasn’t one that made her comfortable either. The report ended with the statement that all three targets were still in the forested area though their exact location was uncertain. Michael kept smiling that stupid smile into the silence that followed.

Tamara jumped as the lady vampire suddenly came to life.

“We’ve got to eliminate them!” Carli shouted. “A blasphemous werewolf, a bounty hunter vampire, and that stupid child could ruin everything that we’ve worked so hard to build!”

“Calm down, my friend,” Michael said reassuringly towards Tamara who was becoming agitated by the woman’s ranting. After being around the exceptionally calm and relaxed House Tandramour, other vampires seemed excitable and high-strung. “Please leave and allow me to speak with my business partner in peace.” Tamara politely left the room, grateful to get away from both of them. “Now, Carli, tell me, what is on your tiny mind?”

“Your incompetence!” Carli shouted at him, eyes flashing with anger. “We’ll never get the Houses together at this rate!”

“Calm yourself, my dear. It is hard to understand you with all this sputtering about.” She glared at him, but became silent. Resting against his ornate desk, Carli pointedly turned her gaze away as if he weren’t looking at. The powerful man wasn’t fooled. “Now, our goal is to make you head of House Delarama. I am already head of House Tandramour and the only living person that can remove you from your position is Savannah, your eldest sister. Come now, we are on the way to completing our plan. What more could you ask for?”

“Savannah wasn’t killed.” Personally, Michael thought her snarl wasn’t half as terrifying as a werewolf’s and her attempt to copy it was severely lacking.

You know nothing of me, pretty pet, he thought. You would do best to keep your fangs behind those seductive lips of yours. “No she wasn’t, but her reputation as a ruthless bounty hunter has been destroyed. Who will hire a bounty hunter that protects werewolves? Besides, her association with them has been made clear. House Delarama, aside from you, despises her along with most of the vampire population. Savannah has already been declared dead. What more reassurance do you need?”

“Her head on a pike,” Carli hissed.

“Let’s not be violent,” Michael chuckled, winking at her. “I have someone who will do that for us. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Who?”

“Devon Ramorgue.”

Tamara had been listening to her employers from beyond the heavy door, ears straining to catch every sound. She didn’t understand what a woman from House Delarama could want so badly that she would have a rival House join her to attain it. At the sound of the soldier’s name she also heard Michael’s footsteps as he prepared to leave.

Before the electric lock was flipped, she bolted out the door into the cool night air. Her master must never discover her secret and discover that she wasn’t completely under his control, but she must inform Garlan of what was happening. Michael had always threatened to ‘teach her a lesson’ but Garlan was a protector whose lessons hurt more.

She barreled down the road, human feet making less sound than a rabbit’s. She longed to change, to be wolf once more, but Michael would be able to track her and her secret would be discovered. Still, to be a werewolf was to be partially wolf. She opened her nostrils, held her head high, and eased into the natural wolf gait. In the gentle lope of ground covering strides, Tamara covered ground faster than any human possibly could. Trees, trails, roads, rivers, lakes, on she went through the night, reveling in the freedom neither human nor vampire could ever possibly know.

Even though the new cities and constantly growing old ones made reaching a private place virtually impossible, she came to the meeting place all too quickly; wolf ease swallowed once more in her troubles. The empty space in the tree line reminded her of why she was there and she felt an emptiness within her. Tears were chased away as her stepfather emerged from the trees. It would never do to be seen crying before the powerful leader of he werewolves.

“You are disturbed,” Garlan said as he contemplated her. He stood tall as a human to spare her the pain of seeing another wolf when she couldn’t use the form herself. He had always been considerate, a quality that had helped the others accept him as their leader.

“No, sir,” she answered respectfully. “I am here to report.” Garlan nodded knowingly, but didn’t speak. Sighing, she continued, “The vampires are moving faster in their plans to take over. They’ve even gone so far as to attempt killing Savannah Delarama. I suggest telling the House about-“

“Tamara, we have been through this. Savannah doesn’t want to tell them and the werewolf leaders are bound by oath to obey that wish. Is there anything else?” His tone wasn’t hard, but it was still firm beneath the understanding.

“Yes,” she answered, leaving her suggestion behind. “There is the matter of the new werewolf Devon Ramorgue. They plan to turn him into a primitive minded fury. I think they intend to have him kill Savannah, but I am unsure.”

“Then we’ll kill him.”

“That presents a problem.”

“Why?”

“He has a daughter, a young girl named Rachel Ramorgue.”

Garlan paused. Mind flying, he considered everything a werewolf had to learn and the unwritten rules they followed. One of the rules suggested that killing young children made a werewolf… something else, something less than dirt. Still, it was painful for young children to lose their parents. He shuddered. Every werewolf knew that in some way. Many of them were wracked with guilt in having killed their parents that first time they changed, but life was kind. The first night was always blissfully blurry like a half remembered dream. For most, the next change and all those following were seared into the mind so that the images and every sensation was crystal clear within the mind, but there were those who remained in a blurry state for many days. He pushed the thoughts away and turned his attention back to Tamara. The problem with an active mind was when it gained a purpose of its own and rambled down senseless thought-paths.

“I must speak with the others about this. Hopefully, we won’t have to do much.”

Tamara nodded. “Then you should know that Devon’s time is running out. The vamps have injected Devon with shanal.”

“Great,” Garlan said sardonically as he frowned. “No time to waste then. Go back and keep listening. Come back in two weeks for further instruction.” Without another word, they parted. The night shadows swallowed them, obscuring them as they headed in different directions. Tamara reveled in the darkness, completely at peace until she returned to the Tandramour estate. What she didn’t know was that she had been seen returning, and not by friendly eyes.

Jingle-jingle… jingle-jingle…

The bell by the door echoed loudly through the little diner as the only other customer besides the two at the window left. The droid behind the counter was completely oblivious. He wasn’t a newer model, probably thirty-some years out of date with a processor that barely understood the difference between sit and stand.

Devon knows about that kind of thing, I’ll have to ask him sometime if androids can be controlled as easily as some humans once he learns how to effectively use that vampiric suggestion of his, Red thought idly as she sipped her drink. Looking out the window, she watched idly as the rain gently fell, making little paths down the glass. Outside, the cracked and dry ground soaked up the offered rain like a sponge. In the big cities, those who controlled the weather were far more careful about the amount of rain deprived or given, but out in the country like this no one really cared.

Across the table, Rachel was the perfect picture of a happy little girl. Hair catching what little light there was just right, Rachel seemed to glow in the quiet food joint. Humming some corny tune in time with the raindrops between bites, she was digging into her chocolate milkshake with such enthusiasm that Red couldn’t help but giggle as the young girl’s eyes sparkled with delight.

But I am not here to laugh and watch her eat ice cream. I just- blazes, I’m getting soft! Red thought angrily. Some bounty hunter I am, completely engulfed by the innocence of a little girl like one of those fool werewolves. Still, I wish this moment could just keep going and I wouldn’t have to spring the trap. Devon knows her better than I do, but… then again that’s also why we decided that I should do this. Just wouldn’t do to shatter a girl’s confidence in her father. Staring at the little milkshake inhaling angel, Red just couldn’t find the right words to start. ‘Gee, Rachel, your dad is now a maniacal killing machine. How does that make you feel?’ Come on, you supposed smooth-talking bounty hunter! Can’t you come up with something better than that?

“Where’s Daddy? I don’t see him anywhere. Is he not coming to eat with us?” Rachel suddenly blurted, licking her spoon to get all the syrup. Smiling, Red decided that bluntness ran in the family and was as good an opening as any.

“No, Rachel, but he did want me to talk to you about why. Devon, your daddy, has changed a lot more than you realize.” Something in her tone caused the girl to look up suspiciously. She was terrified, but she was young after all and her fright was evident on her face.

“Why isn’t he telling me this?” That trace of fear was in Rachel’s voice as well, causing it to escalate. Red was thankful that the little food joint was empty and that the droid was too stupid to know the difference. “Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s outside, Rachel, but you must listen to-”

Jingle-jingle… jingle-jingle…

Red’s voice caught as the scent of werewolf and a trace of blood flooded her nose. At that moment, she knew that Devon wasn’t the one who had entered. Even though he had hinted at the idea of coming in whenever the other customers left, the events of the night before were etched into her memory. She had been imagining things before when she thought Rachel had been the source of whatever made scenting blood so confoundedly hard. The moment Devon had left them alone, Red had even been able to smell the red substance flowing through Rachel’s veins. No, they had to be the real thing if she could scent them so easily. Watching the shadows around the door intently, she involuntarily tensed. Though they wouldn’t know her, she recognized the men that stood there with arrogant pride. Turning about in her chair, Rachel caught their attention with her small movement.

The leader in front stood patiently. He had clear orders from Garlan that although he was going to meet with a vampire, he was going to meet with a friend. Guns weren’t to be fired and a brawl was going to be punished by Garlan’s own fang the moment they returned if such punishment was needed. Staring at the only two present aside from the jerky droid clerk, the scent of vampire flooded his nostrils, but there was another scent that he didn’t recognize. What had him completely confused, however, was the brief flash of recognition on the redhead’s face and the faint fear flooding his nose from the young girl. He knew only that he was looking for a kind-hearted vampire, but he was also certain that no such creature existed. So he watched, waiting.

The air between them tingled with tension.

Outside, the rain was slowing. A bird called somewhere in the distance. “Robin,” the droid said absently.

“Rachel, I want you to run outside and find your dad. He isn’t far and will hear you if you shout.” The man lifted an eyebrow as Red spoke. That had been the last thing he had expected to hear.

“What about you?” the young girl asked.

Red smirked. “Has your opinion of me fallen that much?” Rachel hesitated only a moment before bolting towards the door. Tearing through the werewolves as if they weren’t even there, Savannah reconsidered what she had just sent Rachel to do when she couldn’t hear the young girl screaming over the rain. Quit thinking stupid things! Werewolves have the most insanely keen hearing known to this planet. If anyone can find her, Devon can, so stop thinking and keep your eyes on the puppies, you dumb redhead!

“Are you Savannah Delarama?” the leader asked. Cautiously, Red nodded. The fact that he knew her name was impressive enough, but she kept her surprise under a tight leash. Not even among the bounty hunters did so many werewolves gather together to meet with a vampire. Among them, it was considered bad manners. Among the regular and untrained, it was considered suicide en masse. “Where is Devon Ramorgue?”

“Not here.” She chose her words carefully, keeping her eye on the sensitive noses. Better known as lie detectors, a trained werewolf nose – unlike Devon’s newly found one – could easily detect any change in the scent of whoever was present. Suddenly, being alone in the diner didn’t seem like such a great idea.

“Where is Rachel Ramorgue?” She stared at him. “Where is Devon Ramorgue’s daughter?”

“Who are you? Idiots or morons?” she asked suddenly, straightening. Shifting restlessly from foot to foot, the other werewolves looked at one another uncertainly.

“Neither,” was the snarled reply. “We are here from Garlan, Madam Delarama. He sent us to retrieve you, Devon, and Rachel in the most peaceful way possible. New information has emerged that could have possibly escaped your notice. Should things not go according to plan, he will be here shortly in person.”

“Fine, ‘cause I don’t trust puppies,” she hissed. Their reaction proved her assumption correct. Growling, they acted as if they were going to rebuke her for her rudeness, something none of the other werewolves who knew her would have dared to do. “They don’t know what trust is, much less friendship.”

“‘There is no trust like trust forged from steel, no friendship stronger than a drop of blood,’” one of the men near the back said evenly. Craning to see him more clearly, she gave a small smile. That was a man she knew and could trust. Among the werewolves, he was an old hag, but to her he would have been a sibling among the vampires. He had been there when it had counted on that day so long ago.

“‘Nothing can break it, nothing can tear it, only time can dent it,’” she responded easily. The speaker visibly relaxed even as the others grew nervous with the strange conversation that floated haphazardly over their heads. At ease now, Red moved towards the door without fear, the poor fools moving to the side from uncertainty instead of respect.

“You must remain here,” one of the others said stupidly, placing a restraining hand on her arm.

“If you would like to do that again,” Red answered cockily, brushing the hand aside as if it were mere rain. “I would love to see you try.”

Devon sat quietly by the small stream as he contemplated what Red would be telling Rachel. She had decided to be the bearer of bad news so that his daughter wouldn’t fear him, but he still worried. He attributed a great deal of her understanding and acceptance to the fact that she was ignorant of everything he could do now. That simple truth pained him.

“I’m a fool,” he told the still waters below him. “Only a fool would believe that she accepts me completely and that things won’t change. I’m an even bigger fool for expecting Red to find a cure.” He sighed. “It’s hopeless.” Whether it was a true tear, collecting rain, or his imagination, Devon watched as the water droplet slid down his nose, camouflaged amidst the falling rain. He didn’t even know if werewolves could cry, but he felt like doing so.

Suddenly, a new sound hit his ears. It was distant but urgent and pulled him out of his sadness. He pulled himself erect and cocked his ears to better hear the person shouting. Once he had his sadness under control, Devon knew exactly who that voice was coming from. Bolting through the woods, he ran faster and faster as her frightened calls came closer. Moving as fast as he was, he actually ran past Rachel when they emerged into the same clearing.

“Daddy!” she shouted as she turned and ran for him. “Daddy, I’m scared!” Devon kneeled down and pulled Rachel close as she cried into his slick fur.

“Hush now, hush,” he whispered gently. After a moment of soothing, he pulled Rachel back and looked into her eyes. “What’s wrong, Rachel?” His calm tone soothed Rachel as she confronted his dark eyes and gulped.

“Red t-told me t-to run. Men c-came in the diner, m-men I n-never saw before,” she stuttered out. As her father stood, she grasped his clawed hand without fear.

“Well, we’ll have to get her, won’t we?” Devon asked nonchalantly. “Knowing her, she probably overreacted anyway.” Rachel only nodded as she stayed close beside him, her small figure dwarfed by his looming presence.

They walked carefully through the brush. Devon making full use of his canine nose to track Rachel’s trail. The closer they came to the isolated diner, however, the more nervous he became. At first, he didn’t even realize how tense he was becoming until the sound of distant voices made him bristle involuntarily. Something was wrong. He snorted dismissively as Red’s scent flooded his delicate nostrils, but he still felt uneasy. Being this touchy could put him in danger. Jumping at harmless sounds and becoming overly tense could cause him to loose focus and stress himself to the breaking point. He was going to have to remain calm.

Suddenly, he stopped walking. Rachel stumbled to a stop beside him, surprised by his abrupt halt. She looked up and saw an unreadable emotion on her father’s face as his eyes clouded and he hesitated. Red’s voice drifted through the leaves, gently muffled, but close by. Still, Rachel waited for her father to move forward. When she recognized the fright on his face, she also became nervous.

“What is it, Daddy?” she asked innocently. Devon started and looked down at her uncertainly.

“Nothing,” he said in a shaky voice as they stepped through the last of the foliage and emerged into the clearing where Red and her companions were standing.

The redheaded vampire threw her arms up in the air. “For the love of-!” she shouted. “Look, I cannot make you understand how different – oh, hello, Devon,” she stopped suddenly, realizing that the Ramorgues were standing beside her. “We have an invitation to see the werewolf royalty. They are – uh – intrigued by your particular situation.” Hastily, she moved between him and the other werewolves, but it was too late.

“You are Devon Ramorgue?” the leader demanded as another of the group snarled.

“Yes?” he answered. Without warning, they encircled him.

“You reek of shanal!” one of them hollered, baring canine teeth in his human face.

“What the blazes is shanal?” Devon retorted. “Never heard of it.”

Red coughed, pulling attention to her. “Shanal makes a werewolf become overwhelmed by he primitive mind. You soon will act more wolf than human if you were injected.”

“If?”

“Vampires cannot sense shanal in others though they know how to make it. Werewolves, however, prefer not to make it for the stench is strong in their noses.” At Devon’s questioning look, she sighed. “Vampires can be hurt with shanal, but it is more… disastrous in its effects.” The other werewolves seemed surprised by this information but they also became very anxious when their eyes met Rachel’s. The young girl clutched her father’s hand and edged closer to him.

“We’ve got to give you the antidote quickly,” the werewolf leader said solidly. Devon would have believed he was calm if the scent of fear hadn’t been so thick in the air.

“You need to come away, he may hurt you,” one werewolf said from beside Rachel. She looked up into eyes that were far too trustworthy. “We’ll get you situated.” The stranger held out his hand and tried to pull her away, but Rachel held back. When the man became too insistent Devon growled. For a moment the two faced off, each one daring the other to make the first move. Red didn’t try to bring attention back to herself this time. It could have proven fatal.

“Perhaps we are being too hasty,” said a new voice as another figure stepped out of the woods. “Good day to you, Devon. I am Garlan and these are my personal bodyguards. Sorry for their behavior, but they are accustomed to dealing with my somewhat amiable personality instead of your protective, stubborn one.” Devon relaxed marginally as the man nearest to his daughter withdrew. “Good day to you, Savannah.”

“Good day,” Red answered, but she sounded a little uneasy.

“So, Devon, I smell the shanal. Shall we get that out of your system?”

Reluctantly, and only because Red motioned for him to do so, Devon agreed. Something was wrong and he didn’t trust these so-called werewolves. The more he watched the woman, the more he noticed her nervousness, and the more certain he became of an underlying secret.

Behind them, the android watched mildly. When Devon noticed him, he was certain that he had seen the mechanical man before, but he was unable to place the face before the werewolves were hauling him off into the forest.

“That is impossible!” Tamara said hotly when Garlan came to meet her again. In the otherwise tranquil night, her shout rang out with far more force than it should have. There was something to be said about howling at night since it was so effective with someone who had Tamara’s voice. “There is no way there couldn’t be a trace! There was enough shanal in him to wipe out six werewolves!”

“I’m telling you that he didn’t show any sign of shanal on the tests and he quit stinking of it after a shower.” Garlan massaged his head wearily as the woman’s eyes glistened in the moonlight. They’d been arguing the point for nearly an hour and all she did was get louder. “The shanal must’ve not affected him, impossible or not.”

“It’s just… not right! There should’ve at least been something!”

“Tamara, he flat out reeked when we found him, but it didn’t affect him. Now, why did you call me all the way out here? Surely it wasn’t to rant and rave.”

Seething, she forced herself to calm down. After all, this was her king of sorts. “I don’t know what House Tandramour is planning anymore. Someone has realized that I am not a brainwashed buffoon and destroyed Michael’s trust in me. I do know, however, that he and Carli Delarama have developed a heavy hate for Karoline and Sarah. There have also been hints that he wants Red extinguished, but I have no clue how he thinks he’ll destroy a bounty hunter who is also cozy with the human military. Still, he doesn’t suspect any connection with us… I think. There are many rumors, but nothing to really suggest that you and I are meeting.

Garlan sighed as he considered the grass. “I guess you’re just going to have to be more careful. There’s no way I can possibly assist you. That would bring every vampire and slave he has running with the news. Could run it on satellite and still not have as many people know about it.” He smiled weakly, but Tamara wasn’t fooled. The sadness in his eyes said it all. “Does he still have her?”

She hated to ask, but he expected it. “Who?”

“The only one of us he truly has.”

Sighing, Tamara turned her eyes to the moon. There were so many werewolves that Michael had tried to turn to his bidding, but most of them had shattered or become brainwashed to the point that they could have been fancy paper weights for all the good they did anybody. There was only one who had managed to turn and retain a glimmer of her previous personality. “Yes, she’s still his.”

“Come back in two moons, Tamara,” Garlan said, his voice flat. “Try to work your way back to Michael’s side. We need to know what the Houses are planning.” She nodded and disappeared into the darkness. Annoyed, Garlan walked slowly back to the base where Devon, Red, and Rachel had been taken. He had counted on Tamara bringing back information that would’ve been useful, but she had only brought more bad news. If it were true that she had been discovered… he shuddered.

Suddenly, Red was standing on the path before him. She cut a stunning figure with her athletic body and moonlit red hair, but her frown caught his attention first. Appearing out of nowhere was her favorite trick; a skill only bounty hunters were capable of around inhuman races. Not for the first time, he wished he knew the secret behind it. Wouldn’t be bad to know how she caused the bats to fly from the trees at that exact moment as well. Accursed woman was exceptionally good with intimidation tactics.

“Now I know where you sneak off to,” she said angrily, “and why Tamara hangs around House Tandramour like a leech. I wondered why someone with her talent hung around that measly lot. Really, Garlan, couldn’t you find someone else?”

“She has the same reasons that make you hang around Devon, Red. To learn, watch, and manipulate.”

“I do no such thing!” she said, voice growling with indignation. “Vampiric mind control can only be extended so far and only on the weak-minded. Devon, like you, is stubborn and strong willed. He makes his own decisions based on what he’s told.”

“You’ve been very selective in what you’ve told him,” Garlan retorted with a smile. “You forget, I have my own manner of finding out things. It would appear that you left me out altogether at some very crucial points. That doesn’t even touch on the more exotic details that you have so conveniently skipped over, bounty hunter.”

“I have been as open as I wish to be,” she snarled.

“Sharing common knowledge isn’t being open.”

“Bounty hunters tell what they like.” He swallowed his next retort as he realized that her anger was real and she was toying with him. The middle of the night and alone wasn’t the ideal time to attempt to infuriate someone with a reputation like Red’s. Doubtless, Devon had assumed that her nickname came from her hair. It helped, but there were many other reasons… which she had also not mentioned.

“Will you go back on your word?” he asked.

“My word to you was forged in steel, Garlan, and our partnership in blood. I will never go back on that.”

“Despite the cost?”

“Don’t push it.”

“What about Devon then?” he asked, crossing his arms. The all too familiar glint in her eye spoke of anger and irritation. The last time Red had become angry, she had torn a man in half. Garlan didn’t particularly want to join him, but he couldn’t stand it when she lied at him while knowing full well that he knew she was doing it. Filthy two-faced vampire. “He isn’t a true werewolf, more like some crazy lab experiment. Why hang around him? Wouldn’t call that normal for a free lance bounty hunter.”

“Wouldn’t call a werewolf king normal if he didn’t have a few friends who were a little… unique.” He shrugged as she continued. “I need Devon to help me weed out little vampires that don’t necessarily do as they are told.” A dash of moonlight glimmered red in her eyes. For a moment, she looked like the psychotic vampires of legend.

“By the Houses you mean?”

“No, by me.”

He frowned. “You’re pulling my leg. There isn’t anybody that would try to undermine you. No one can possibly be that stupid.”

“No, Garlan, they are that stupid and many of them have a death wish. You know how I operate.” He nodded. “I expect underlings to do as they are told, not blab to the whole world. Loose tongues are to be cut off.”

So much for looking psychotic, she might as well be. “Do you know who is talking?”

“No, but I have some heavy evidence that I don’t like.” She stared at him and the silence made him uneasy. “You won’t like it either.” He waited patiently. She smirked. Finally, someone had learned not to interrupt. “It’s someone in House Tandramour.”

“Who?”

“I don’t have any dealings with that House. You do.”

The night suddenly grew cold and the glint in her eyes flashed.

“Impossible…” It couldn’t be, no, none of us would ever stoop that low, brainwashed or not. “It’s impossible…”

“Yes, I think Tonya, your queen and captured by Tandramour, is a loose tongue.”

They kept telling him that he wasn’t a prisoner, kept telling him that there was no way in creation Savannah would ever allow them to restrain him by sheer force, but Devon knew better as he sat at the base of the white wall. Staring up at the ceiling in what basically passed for a prison cell with a new coat of paint, there was no other explanation. The moment he had been cleaned and given a run over by the resident nurse – or whoever it was that passed for one – he had been put in here and left. There weren’t even nice bars to look through. At least Red had given him bars. Still, his living room would have been a vast improvement and he smiled with a touch of homesickness.

What I wouldn’t give to hear that stupid fan right about now. Heck, I’d sew myself onto the couch.

But, even after being stuck in such a boring slab of a room, it still got worse. Looking at his dark hand, Devon watched it tremble with weakness. By his own reckoning, he had been stuck under werewolf control/monitoring for nearly two days. They knew nothing about him. They knew nothing about the strange urges, the lust to kill something fresh… to drain its blood while it was still moving… to feel the prey slow to a stop beneath his hands… feel such…

Balling his fist, Devon shut down that train of thought and forcefully pushed the primitive mind back into the depths of his subconscious.

Face it, soldier. You’re addicted to killing. Whether it’s vampire blood or werewolf, you need that stupid blood. The only thing that makes it worse is the werewolves don’t understand. Heck, they couldn’t hope to understand what I’m going through. Those blasted waiters would taste better than the steak they bring me right now.

He could picture it clearly; feel the sensation of sinking his teeth into tender flesh, the pure relief of gentle blood as their screams…

One potato, two potato, three potato, four – five potato, six potato, seven potato, don’t think about that any more, he hummed to himself. Trembling, he closed his eyes, focusing on the back of his eyelids. The shanal scare that had made them confine him supposedly wasn’t the problem. No one had tried to explain it to him; Devon only knew that the nurse had claimed it was what had weakened him. Red would understand, she had to deal with this crap all the time, but no one would let him loose. Through the door that wasn’t supposed to be locked but was, he could smell the two bodyguards that weren’t supposed to be there. They didn’t bother to explain that either.

Morons. Help if she came to visit once in a while. Moving into a more comfortable position, Devon felt every muscle complain. I feel so blame weak… Licking his lips, he winced at the slight pain that small movement caused him. I hate this. Stupid blood, stupid werewolves, stupid vampires… and I ended up being both. Hopefully, the stupidity will cancel out instead of making me twice as stupid. Yeah, right. Like that’ll happen.

“Daddy?” asked a small voice. Rachel poked her head through the door, but Devon didn’t answer. He barely opened his eyes, trying his best not to think of her as food. Even little Rachel, she glowed a hideous red where veins were close to the skin and her heartbeat rang in his ears. “They told me I could see you a minute.”

Please, Rachel, leave me alone. I’m starving. He tried to talk, but words wouldn’t come out.

She moved to sit beside him and he felt his mouth water. “They say you’ll hurt me. They say you might kill me,” she whispered. “Would you?” His vocals decided not to work conveniently enough. “I don’t think so. I think you scare them, but not me.” She hugged his arm and he closed his eyes to avoid looking at her. She rambled on senselessly, but he knew she was just trying to get over her own fear. After a few minutes, her voice began to soothe him despite the fear scent and he managed to relax just a little. Devon would’ve probably gotten to the point where he could have gone to sleep if her heartbeat hadn’t been ringing in his ears like a dinner bell making him tense with hunger. He felt as if he were being torn apart from the inside.

This must be what those old veterans called friendly torture, ugh, he thought irritably.

“Come walk with me,” Rachel said finally, pulling his arm as she stood up. He opened his eyes – sad, tired, sore eyes.

What do you want now? Walk? Girl, I can’t half stand up, much less walk.

“Daddy? What’s wrong?” she asked, oblivious to his thoughts. Telling her would have solved so much, but his best efforts only produced a strained whine. He saw the realization dawn on her as fear ran across her face. She dropped his hand and darted across the room where she proceeded to bang on the door, shouting for someone to come. Within moments, the door opened and two armed men appeared.

They look awfully prepared for guards who aren’t supposed to be there, he thought ironically as one leveled his weapon at Devon.

“Help my dad!” she shouted before they could fire on him. “Help him! He’s sick!”

“What are you talking about?” the man on the left asked, lowering his weapon without looking away from Devon. The right man sniffed the air delicately.

Blasted wolf noses, what on earth do they tell you anyway? ‘Yes, moron, he thinks you’re totally backwards’? I’ll never have a dog.

“I don’t smell anything and he doesn’t look sick,” the man stated to his comrade. “I don’t see anything wrong.”

The man speaking to Rachel looked dubious. “Are you certain?”

Rachel crossed her arms and glared at him. Her chin barely passed his belt.

If I didn’t feel so terrible, this would be comical.

“Look at him!” she demanded, dragging the man to stand beside Devon. The black werewolf’s only movement was to follow them with his eyes. Quickly, he suppressed the idea of dragging the man down and satisfying his thirst, but, in the back of his mind, a more primitive mind purred with the idea. “He doesn’t act ‘not sick’.”

Thank God for super stubborn daughters with no fear.

The man coughed self-consciously. “Then I shall fetch Red and the doctor. Rachel, why don’t you wait outside until we know why he’s sick and if it’s contagious?” Rachel hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth. When the man reached down to force her, Devon growled. It was a deep, low sound that could barely be heard, but the meaning was understood clearly. The stranger backed away and left his daughter alone.

Watch it, turkey. With enough motivation, I’ll be all over you in an instant. Devon had great satisfaction in watching the man retreat with a panicked look.

“I’ll be right outside, Daddy,” she said finally. Unsure of what to do, Rachel looked between them for a moment before she hugged him tightly about the neck. He was too weak to return it so he settled for a brief lick on her cheek. Unknowingly, he cemented a deep fear in Rachel that her father could possibly be lost among the more doglike features of Dagger. Tears welling in her eyes, she walked resolutely toward the door as she whispered to herself that no mere mutt could overcome her father. He was an accomplished soldier, a brave man that would stand up to anything!

When Rachel closed the door behind her, she heard the dull thud of her father falling over. She leapt into action, fumbling with the doorknob to get it open again, but a hand came down beside her and steadied them. She looked up through her tears to see who had stopped her. It was one of the guards.

“Let him rest since he’s sick,” the man said calmly. “Red said no one was to give him medicine or a medical checkup except her from here on out. We’ve already radioed ahead and the others are trying to find her now.” Rachel nodded before sitting down on a small nearby bench to wait. The two had resumed their posts on either side of the door, but she wasn’t certain if it was to keep people out or her father in. Whichever it was, she didn’t think she liked it.

Time ticked by, nearly convincing Rachel that this was all a nightmare. If it were one of the worst, Red would never appear. If it was a better one, she would come, but only to announce that her father was going to die of some mysterious disease. Those were Rachel’s nightmares and the longer it took for Red to appear, the more the young girl buried herself in her dark thoughts. As she steeped herself in their deep anger and sadness, she found something she had never imagined would be there. Comfort.

After nearly two hours, Red appeared. Rachel would have run to her begging her to help if the woman hadn’t been so angry – and if she hadn’t been surrounded by a mob of people. Men were gathered all around her, trailing her as she walked, and speaking quickly when they managed to stand beside her for a moment. The scene reminded Rachel faintly of a proud eagle among nervous crows. Deciding to leave this angry ‘eagle’ alone, she remained still and tried to be invisible. It must’ve worked for no one realized that she was there.

“You call yourselves werewolves?” Red said scornfully. “I would rather be a pig right now than a wolf like any of you!”

Rachel froze. Werewolves?

“Milady, we didn’t know anything was wrong. You said yourself that Devon Ramorgue was different. We thought it was normal for him to act this way,” someone said, trying to soothe her temper. Footsteps were heard coming down the hall and the sight that met Rachel’s eyes confused her. Garlan was leading a-

An ox? What on earth would they need an ox for? her thoughts flew wildly, but nothing made any sense.

“Garlan!” Red said hotly, pulling Rachel’s attention away. “I want you to pick one of these fools to go in with the cow. I want the moron in charge of Devon’s health to go in there and be part of the answer!”

“But Savannah…” Garlan started.

“What are you two doing here?” she demanded of the guards by the door. “Aren’t you two supposed to be chasing your tails or something?” She blatantly ignored the fact that they weren’t even supposed to be there. Her only hint was a burning stare that made Garlan wince.

“Miss Rachel went in to see her father and called for someone to come check on him. We were the only two that came and we called for you and the doctor. Now that you’re here, we’ll go back to chasing our tails,” the man closest to Rachel answered. As one, he and his comrade headed off down the hall. Relief from getting out of the way made their steps quick.

“Garlan, I repeat, the lunatic that let this happen goes in with the ox. I don’t want this happening again. No ‘but’s!” she shouted, cutting him off. Garlan nodded and another face stepped out of the crowd. Rachel had never seen him before, but he looked unkempt, unsure, and incredibly young. At the sight of him, Red snarled. “You stink of vampire! I know bloody well that I haven’t been around you that much. Why in blazes do you stink of ancient vampire?” He lifted his palm blandly and showed her the flat of his hand. A golden swirl was embedded there. “Insignia of Tandramour, hmm? I also assume that you know of this, Garlan?”

“No,” he growled. Rachel could’ve sworn that his teeth were too big for his mouth.

“Feed Devon with this traitor. I’ll have no spies. Then we move, Garlan. We’re as vulnerable now as ever.” The door was opened, the ox and spy sent in, then the door was shut. A single scream pierced the air before the low of the ox was heard a few moments later. Red felt a tug on her hand. Looking down, Rachel’s eyes met hers, pools of fear and non-understanding tinged with panic. She hadn’t even realized that the girl was there, much less listening to the entire conversation.

“F-f-feed him?” Red wasn’t sure which of them would cry first.

Stupid bounty hunter, here’s your chance.