"She has been like that for two hours."
He wasn't even aware Amy knew he was there.
"We were sitting at the dinner table when she told me she had something she needed to do. I asked her what, but she ignored me. She stood and went out here." Amy hugged herself. "I followed because she was acting weird. Even for her. When I followed, I saw her undress and go to where she stands now." Amy looked at him. He could see her eyes were puffy and red from crying a little.
"I called out to her, repeatedly. I even went to her and tried to get her to respond. When I looked into her eyes, I could tell she was no longer aware of what was going on. Her eyes were glassy and dull." She looked back at Sylvanis.
"When she started speaking in that language, I retreated back here." She sniffled, as if trying to stop from crying again. "I didn't know what else to do. Mark, I'm afraid."
Mark moved to her and put his arms around her. She buried her face in his shoulders and started to cry again. He held her tight, but never took his eyes from Sylvanis. He couldn't tell, but he believed she had grown some more since this morning.
He was about to attempt approaching her when she lowered her arms to the sides. She turned towards them. There was something different about her. He wasn't even sure if he was looking at his daughter anymore.
Her eyes cleared and she noticed them. She approached them, seemingly unaware of her nakedness.
"Father. Mother. Things have become clear to me. I have sent the call out for help, but I fear it is only a matter of time before she comes for me, and with her, very dangerous people. It would be safer if you left. I can't assure your safety. If the help I called doesn't arrive before she does, I'm afraid I won't be able to even assure my own safety."
With that, she walked around them and into the house.
Samuel sat at his kitchen table in his mansion just outside of London, watching Kestrel. She sat in his living room, intensely studying the book of American history sitting on his coffee table. The book, one of many on the table was part of Kestrel’s attempt to understand what had happened since she had gone asleep all those years ago. The TV played in the background, a documentary about Green Peace. He remembered the night he tried to turn the TV off since she had her head buried in books, and he figured she wasn’t paying attention to it. He had been wrong. Somehow, she was able to absorb the information in the book, all the while listening to the documentary, and snapped at him for trying to turn it off.
She was still wary of the computer. Even though he had showed her the ability it had to access vast amounts of information in seconds via the internet, she still preferred hard copies.
They had been at this for months now. Kestrel spent almost every waking moment studying about anything she could get her hands on, though mostly she focused on history. After all, a lot had happened. She studied history, science, economics, and mathematics. Languages were also something she studied at great length. She already had all but mastered the English language, both old country and new. Latin, she had already known in some small degree, which aided her in learning French and Spanish. She had started to dabble in Mandarin as well.
When she wasn’t studying, she was communing with nature, to speak with the Earth and to also try to detect where Sylvanis was hiding. Apparently, even though Sylvanis should be just a babe, she was shielding herself, or at the very least not opening herself up to the Earth and had thus far escaped detection. Kestrel was angry, but she knew her moment would come. She would do what she had failed to do in the past and take the fight right to Sylvanis.
It had been a grueling eight months. She had immersed herself in gaining as much knowledge as she could. This world she now lived in was immense. When she went away, it seems only a fifth of the world was known.
There were races of people, types of animals and ecosystems she hadn’t even known existed. She was fascinated, and yet angry at the advancement that civilization had made. Man was flying now! Flying into space! Walking on the moon, living in space, exploring the depths of the ocean, living in buildings taller than the tallest trees. Driving around in cars, trucks, trains and Segways.
They could talk at great distances in moments and even communicate with people on the other side of the Earth in real time. But, to do these things, they had raped the Earth. They had stolen her precious resources, they had cut down her trees, killed her children, dug deep and scarred her body. They never seemed to get enough! Not for the first time had she wondered why it took the Earth so long to wake her.
She had read the histories. There were countless times where the Earth had been ravaged much worse than it was today. Sure, it was still bad out there, but the industrial revolution? Progress without restraint or consideration to the damage being done? Why not then? Why now? When laws were in place, regulations were enforced, and mankind generally seemed to want to do what was right by the Earth? Well… it mattered not.
Mankind had been allowed to progress too far. Their way of life was increasingly taxing upon the Earth, regardless of how much they tried to safeguard against it. She would do what must be done.
At that moment, she became aware of Samuel watching her. She had gotten used to calling him by that name. It was a good name for him, it seemed to fit him. He was in a chair in the kitchen watching her study. It was clear he had something to tell her but knew better than to interrupt her when she was studying. He would wait, patiently, for her to acknowledge him. She decided to not let him wait any longer.
“You have something to speak to me about, Samuel?” She used English all the time now. As much as she preferred Celtic, she understood the need for practice in this tongue. It was obvious by her accent and stilted way she still said things, she needed that practice.
Samuel shifted in his seat. It didn’t surprise him she had never looked at him, and yet, still knew he was there.
“The boar is making noise. More and more sightings of him and his two Trues. London is all the whisper about it.”
He went on.
“The police, of course, are denying any of it. They are assuring the public there is no such thing as these boar monsters and that the police do not have a file on them.” He leaned forward. “However, my source in the precinct says they do have a file on them. They have a file with multiple videos of the boar and his followers, but they have no plans to release them. Frankly, what my source says is that they are ‘fucking scared’ of what these things are.”
Samuel smiled as he finished his report.
Kestrel let out a sigh.
“Good… good. He is doing exactly what I thought he would do when I read the file you had on him. He’s smart. He is keeping himself low-key, but still, the word would get out. You can’t hide what you are forever.”
She could sense he was holding something back, though she wasn’t sure if it was because of its importance, or because of his reluctance. Either way, she would know what it was.
“What else?” Kestrel demanded in no uncertain terms.
Samuel grabbed newspaper off the kitchen table. He had given up on getting her to use the internet. He stood and moved to her chair and handed her the paper. It was the Chicago Tribune. Chicago was a vastly populated city in America if Kestrel remembered correctly. She arched an eyebrow at Samuel.
“Page 2A, third column,” he answered her unasked question.
Kestrel placed the paper down on top of the book she had been studying and opened it up to page 2A. It took her a moment to locate the story Samuel wanted her to read, but a smile emerged from her lips.
“Man-Beast Stalks Chicago Streets” the article headline read. After perusing the article, she found what she had been looking for.
“…witness claims it was a giant wolf standing on two legs, not a bear as others had said. Either way…”
Ironically it was at that moment she felt it. It was like feeling the sunlight on your skin after being covered by the clouds on an autumn day. As much as she hated to admit it, Sylvanis’ presence felt ligh
t and pure. It was her all right. Her touch could not be mistaken. For some reason Kestrel could not fathom, Sylvanis had decided to let her guard down.
“Where is Blain now?” she asked, looking directly at Samuel. He had sat back down but was now sitting at the very edge of his seat. He had sensed something had changed in her and was ready to act on it as she needed. He was a good servant, despite having deserted her at the end before. She understood why he had done it, and truly she could not fault him, regardless of how it had stung.
“He is at one of his clubs he uses as a front for his drug businesses.”
Kestrel frowned. Most drugs that came from plants, she had no issue with. Heroin, however, was very destructive to the human spirit. It drained someone of their choices and made them weak. She could not approve of this drug.
Blain, however, used this drug to gain power and money for himself, and by all reports, never used the stuff. In time, he would have no need for his drug empire to have all the power and money he wanted. She would let him have his empire for now, but she would rein him in eventually. In the meantime…
“Let’s go put a leash on our boy then. I have a job for him to do.”
Kestrel was already thinking of her next steps. She needed to move quick, but she also needed to move smart.
“Oh and use that internet device to book us a flight for tomorrow. We are going… what is the term? Down Under?”
Chapter 6
Kat sat perched on top of her new apartment in Chicago. It was centrally located to where several strange sightings and pet deaths had occurred. It was also down the street from where an old man claimed to have seen a bear and even shot it. She had been here a week and still had not seen anything. She had a few more weeks before the full moon, but she hoped to see signs of the other Were before then.
Her cat eyes glowed in the soft moonlight as she looked over the city. She thought to make her presence known by allowing witnesses to see her so the word would get out another lycanthrope was here, but something told her that was the wrong way to go. She remained hidden, returning nightly to her high perch, ever watchful and vigilant. Searching for any sign of the other Were.
It was as she was waiting when the strange feeling, a slow and mounting pull towards the west. She swore. She knew the feeling she had was important, but she was hesitant to leave Chicago before locating her quarry. She sighed. Well, if there was another Were here, she got the feeling they would feel the pull, too. So, it was a good chance she would run into him or her on the way to wherever she needed to go. She climbed down off her perch and went inside to pack.
It had been there most of the night. The pulling. The tugging. Something west of here was pulling to him. But Clint didn't want anything to do with it. A form moved beside him, under the covers and he moved his legs away from Sarah's cold feet. If he couldn't fall asleep soon, he would have to get up. Usually Sarah's tossing, turning, and roaming the bed in her sleep didn't bother him because he was asleep. But she would continue to bump into him all night, and that could get annoying. He still marveled at the fact she was here, in his bed, knowing what kind of monster he was.
She was tireless in her tests on him. She would get home from her night shift at 6am, and then nap until 10am. She would show up at his apartment at 11, and run tests until she fell asleep, which was usually around 3pm. He would wake her at 5pm, and she would leave for work shortly after.
It was one of those times she slept he had fallen in love with her. There were times when she would literally fall asleep on him while running blood pressure tests, checking his pulse, or sometimes a reflex test. He would find himself holding her in his arms. Her body pressed against his. He would carry her to his bed and lay her down. She always looked so serene, so relaxed when she slept. Sarah was so intense when awake, it was nice to see, at least at some point, she could slow it down, even if it was because she was unconscious.
The first week or so he just left her in bed and went to watch TV. After a while he started to watch her a little bit as she rested. Sometimes he would even stroke her hair. She startled him one time by opening her eyes as he ran his fingers through her hair. He froze, not knowing if she was fully awake. She reached up and stroked his cheek and smiled. She closed her eyes and was back asleep. Clint let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding and left the room.
She didn't mention it the following day, so he figured she had truly just been sleeping. He kept away for the next few nights, allowing her to sleep undisturbed. Then she fell asleep on him, again. Gently, he lifted her into his arms. She curled up and snuggled against him. She felt so good to him. She also smelled very nice as well. He never remembered her wearing perfume before.
When Clint reached the bed, he lowered her upon it. He stood and willed himself to turn and walk out. To his surprise, he kept standing there, not leaving. Clint watched her for a long time, watched her breathe, her chest rising and falling. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and most of all, knew his dark secret, yet she didn't leave.
Of course, at first, he knew she stuck to him because of his secret. It had been obvious she wanted more than anything to find out why he was infected and what it meant. Their friendship grew quickly, though. They both seemed to click well together.
Which was a good thing, because it seemed as if Clint hardly a free moment in which Sarah wasn't poking, prodding, and asking him personal questions about what his body was going through. He knew he could be somewhat of a loner. He had never been one to just "hang out" with people, yet he could hang out with Sarah all day long.
Clint trailed a finger softly against Sarah's cheek. Kneeling, he started to stroke her hair, again. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Once again, he froze, not moving a muscle. He waited for her to fall back to sleep. She didn't. Instead she reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, drawing him to her and kissed him. Her lips were warm and moist, and he felt very alive. He couldn't help but pull away, though. She looked up at him quizzically.
"You’re awake, aren't you?" he asked her.
"Yes, of course I am. Are you?" she asked him back, giving him a fake questioning look.
To answer her, he kissed her, and then pulled away again after a moment.
"Hmmm," she said. "I think it still feels like you are asleep. I mean-"
He cut her off with another kiss, a hard one. His hands started to roam her body and she pressed herself against them. They made love fiercely and passionately. Their quiet sexual tension that had been building, released.
They lay next to each other and talked about how long they had each been feeling these feelings. He was surprised to find out she had been secretly crushing on him from almost the beginning, and some of the times she had fallen asleep on him, she did so on purpose. They talked and kissed for a while, then made love again, slower and more tenderly this time. She fell asleep shortly after, and he double checked to make sure she had fallen asleep this time.
That was several weeks ago. Since then, she had all but moved in. She kept most of her clothes and personals at her place, but that was mostly pretext. It was a way of committing, without going all the way. He didn't mind. He enjoyed her company so much, if she wished to move in with him, he wouldn't say no. He knew her well enough to know she wasn't ready for him to ask her though. She was an independent woman, and when she was ready, she would tell him.
That was one thing he loved about her. There was very little game playing. No trying to guess if he should say something or not say something. He didn't have to worry about not picking up on subtle clues that, in reality, didn't make any sense whatsoever when it came to the subject. No fights over the fact he didn't know what she wanted, when she hadn't told him. No. If she didn't speak it out plainly, she wasn't going to get angry because you didn't know what she was thinking.
He decided to get up and crawled out of bed. The pull was still there, tugging at him. He opened the sliding glass door leading to a small balcony. The balcony was metal lattice and was only
wide enough to set a chair on.
It was a cool night for the beginning of autumn. He pondered again what this feeling he had was. He knew sometimes people would get a feeling they needed to do something. But that feeling was always caused by something internal, something within them, a need that wanted to be fulfilled.
This, well, this was something different. It felt outside of himself. Like a separate source was trying to draw him to it. He thought about waking Sarah and telling her but dismissed the idea. She was too scientific to understand this. This wasn't science, this was something else. Whatever it was, he didn't want a part of it.
They had been running tests for weeks now and were no closer to understanding what was happening as they were on day one. Sarah concluded it was lycanthropy and Clint could see no reason to argue the point. He never got a look of himself when he changed, she had. So, if she said that he looked like a bi-pedal wolf, then he would take her word for it.
She also concluded the excessive number of stem cells in his body is what allowed for the transformation. They would turn into various cells as he needed. Clast cells, which were bone cells. Or muscle cells. Even hair follicles. They could become nerve cells to create a larger nervous system to accommodate his bulk and height. She was fascinated by it. He wanted it gone.
He confided in her he was aware of his healing abilities when he was young. And, as far as he could recall, it might have been earlier than that, but not obvious. There had been, to his knowledge, no exposure to any animals, let alone wolves.
"It must be hereditary," she told him at the time.
"I don't know. I don't remember much of my parents. They died in a car accident when I was young. The semi that hit us sheared off the front of the car, my parents along with it. They probably would have made it if the guy had stopped, but he apparently had a stroke and couldn't. The car was rolled underneath the semi and my parents were crushed and dragged about two hundred feet. I was in a car seat in the back seat. The back of the car was thankfully spun around so I didn't actually witness most of the accident."
The Awakening Box Set Page 24
