The Fifth Clan

by Ryan T. Nelson

I turned my head and stared through the window at the passing swampland, quickly rolling myself another cigarette. I tucked it between my lips and lit it with my zippo. "I've been thinking of something the old bastard said to me once, in Ireland."

  "Does this have anything to do with Ash?" he asked, his voice low and solemn.

  "Not in the slightest." I couldn't keep the sharpness or the heat from my tone. I tried. Honestly I did, but some wounds never heal. Anyone ever tells you time heals all wounds you should give them a swift kick in the soft place and walk the other way.

  "I was there for you then Gabriel, I can-"

  "Drop it, Ghost."

  "Seriously, man I-"

  "Drop it!"

  He dropped it and the van descended into silence as the sun slowly sank below the horizon outside and we pushed further into the swamps that surrounded New Orleans.

  18

  New Orleans: March 02, 2005

  The clock had turned past three in the morning before we reached the entrance we were looking for. In the back Rachel had woken up hours ago. She ate from the food we had purchased before setting out on this little journey but Ghost and I remained largely silent. Something that I am sure confused her to end considering she had hardly been able to get us to shut up since Mexico.

  Neither of us really felt like explaining though so it just turned into a lot of sitting in silence for hours on end.

  I was starting to doze when the van came to a stop. I started awake and sat up, peering through the windshield at the entrance to what I would later find to be possibly the most secure location in the world.

  Like Ghosts spot in Mexico the outside gave nothing to indicate the true nature of the location. Stone walls framed a large iron gate looking like nothing more than the entrance to the type of plantation estates you would find in the Deep South. Tall trees that I couldn't begin to identify grew on either side of the road and lined the walls heading off into the gloom of the night.

  "So now what?" Ghost asked.

  "I'm not sure. I'm waiting for the Frankenstein Monster to stump his way out of the fog and this'll all be perfect."

  "He wouldn't be out here."

  "How would you know? Maybe the Creature likes Creole?"

  "Oh my God, honestly you two," Rachel snapped from behind us. I guess our banter over the last couple days had finally gotten to her. She'd held out longer than I thought she would honestly, but she couldn't have picked a worst time to get pissed at our quirks.

  I heard the van door slide open behind me and she jumped out to start walking around to the front of the van. I threw open my door, leaped out, grabbed her and threw us both to the ground as the van suddenly shook violently and Ghost spilled out on the opposite side, sprawling out in the dirt as a hole the size of my fist appeared in the door right where Rachel would have been standing.

  A second later the sound of the gunshot caught up, echoing oddly through the night.

  "God damnit!" Rachel shrieked under me. "What is with you fucking assholes and shooting people that show up on your doorstep? What the fuck do you do when a Girl Scout troop comes by trying to sell cookies?" Considering the odds of a troop of girl scouts coming that far out into the boonies was impossible the image still struck me as funny as hell. I bit down my laughter though and shushed her, waiting nervously for any follow-up shots.

  When none came immediately on the proverbial heels of the first I began to think that we might get a chance to actually speak before we were turned into so much Swiss cheese.

  "In our defense," Ghost muttered from the other side of the van. "Neither Grim or myself actually shot either of you. We shot at you."

  "He would have killed me if Gabe hadn't pulled me out of the way," she snapped, glaring at him.

  "He wouldn't have killed you. Just put a hole the size of a football through your stomach, no big deal."

  She stared at him incredulously. "Ghost?" she asked, suspiciously calmly considering the circumstances.

  "Hmmm?" he was looking back toward the gate, attention on the direction the shot had come from.

  "I DON'T HEAL LIKE YOU IMMORTAL IDIOTS DO. I AM HUMAN, REMEMBER?" She bellowed. Luckily I had felt her sharp intake of air beneath me and managed to clamp my hands over my ears before she screamed at him. As it was my ears were still ringing by the time she finished and poor Ghost was actively writhing on the ground clutching at the side of his head.

  "You've got a lot of explaining to do Gabriel."

  "In regard to what exactly, Grim?" I asked the voice that seemed to float from everywhere out of the darkness at once. Never did figure out how he did that trick and the old dog wouldn't tell me. I'm still bitter about that, it was a cool trick.

  "A few things," he said. I heard the sound of booted footsteps drawing near and figured it was safe to stand. If Grim didn't want me to hear him approaching then I wouldn't have known where he was until after he'd already slit my throat. "First, why did you bring a human here? Second why did you bring the lapdog here?" He came into the light given off by the vans headlights and glared at me. "And third, how in the fuck did you manage to forget everything I ever taught you so that they were able to force you into revealing your fifth power?"

  I gaped at him like a fish out of water. I'm not ashamed to admit it. My mouth hung open like a trout and I just stared incredulously at him for several seconds as my brain struggled to catch up to what my ears were telling me.

  "You knew?" I asked, unable to hide the shock from my voice even if my face hadn't already given it away.

  He snorted, a particularly derisive sound coming from my old mentor. "How long did I train you? Do you honestly think I didn't know everything about you?"

  Rachel stood and brushed herself off, coming to stand next to me as she got her first good look at Grim. At six foot four he wasn't the tallest man I'd ever seen. Tall yes, but I've met taller. He was easily three feet wide at the shoulders and moved with the loping grace of the wolf that was so a part of his nature. Dark brown hair hung to just past his shoulders and a large, startlingly red beard jutted from his face.

  I swear all he needed was a horned helmet and a battle axe and he'd look like a frickin' Viking warrior.

  A large green coat hung around his shoulders reaching to mid-thigh, the pockets heavy with any number of potential items, most of which I didn't want to know about knowing Grim as I did. Heavy combat pants were tucked into a pair of thick combat boots.

  I'm sure all of that registered dimly, if at all to Rachel, in comparison to the massive rifle he cradled in his arms. It made the gun I had gifted to Ghost look like a pea shooter and I knew our wayward werewolf friend would be drooling over the impressive piece of hardware in no time.

  I glanced over at him to find he was still lying on the ground where he'd landed. I wasn't positive he was even breathing.

  "Get off the ground, Pup," Grim growled. "I'm not going to shoot you." Ghost slowly started to stand but froze a moment later as Grim added quietly, "Yet."

  "Stop playing with him, Old Dog," I said, starting to regain my composure. I would find out how long he knew about my power later. There were more pressing matters.

  "I'm sure you know by now that Threntü streamed the video of me all around the world. War is coming if we don't do something to stop it. I'm going to need your help."

  Grim leveled his rifle at me; the large barrel seemed impossibly long and terrifyingly dark as I stared directly down it. "And what's to stop me from blowing your head off and saving the whole world a lot of trouble?"

  Rachel trembled beside me. I could smell the fear rolling off of her and my Vasith abilities lit up like a Christmas tree with the wild thoughts running through her mind. Foremost among them was concern for herself if I was no longer around to protect her. But I also detected a strong current of worry for me. Genuine concern for my safety, that was interesting. I filed the information away and kept my attention on the Grim.

  "Because that would be the easy way out, and I've never known
you to settle for simple measures." I'll just accept the Oscar now, all the other candidates should just go home. I wasn't remotely as confident as my words or my tone made me sound but I gave nothing away. This was just the first of many potential spots where everything I planned to do could go tits up. If Grim decided taking me out was the best solution there honestly wouldn't be a damned thing I could do to stop him right then. He had me with my pants down basically and I wouldn't be able to get the upper hand before he could take me out. He was too old, too strong, and too good at what he did.

  We stood there silently, like an odd collection of lawn ornaments as Grim stared into my eyes and I stared back into his. The slightest hesitation and I knew he would pull that trigger and my head would be violently separated from the rest of my body.

  After the most nerve wracking few minutes I have ever experienced Grim grunted and raised the rifle letting it rest across his shoulder. "Come inside and talk, I'll decide if I'm going to shoot you later." That said he turned and walked away, leaving us to follow or be left behind.

  Rachel and Ghost fell into step beside me as we started along the narrow path behind the gate that led to a large manor house in the distance. At my best guess the drive was easily a quarter mile long just to get to the houses front doors.

  "If Grim shoots me," Ghost muttered as we walked. "I'm blaming you."

  "If he shoots you, I'll blame me."

  Rachel was silent. Silent but fuming. She wasnotamused and I had the distinct impression that I was going to get the brunt of her ire when she finally popped her top and let it all out.

  19

  New Orleans: March 02, 2005

  The house was a small mansion. If by small you were comparing it to a football field. It didn't strike me as the kind of place Grim would live in and I looked around curiously as we followed the old wolf onto the grounds and toward the brightly lit house.

  Large area, open grounds, numerous entry and exit points. The place was as defensible as a glass phone booth on a firing range. That was not normal behavior for Grim which led me to believe that something unexpected was about to happen.

  I was proven right when, instead of leading us to the open front doors leading into the main house, he led us around to the side of the house where there was an unusual set of cellar doors.

  Instead of the usual wood doors one might expect to find these were solid steel and gleamed with the dull shine of silver. In the center of the heavy doors there was an electronic plate that I recognized as a biometric scanner.

  "Security is looking good," I complimented Grim as he placed his palm against the reader. There were some lights and blips and other noises as the scanner did its job and a few seconds later a hollow sounding boom as large bolts slid aside, unlocking the door. Grim pulled on a leather glove and grabbed the handle, heaving one of the doors up to reveal it was two feet thick and still coated with silver like the outside.

  With the door opened we followed him into a stairwell and he pressed a button set into the wall as Rachel filed in behind me. With a quiet hum the door slowly swung closed on its own as we continued down the stairs.

  And down.

  And down.

  And, oh hey, down some more.

  After five minutes of walking steadily down step after step Rachel finally gave in. "Holy fuck," she burst out. "How fucking deep is this damned cellar?"

  "Deep," I said. By the sound of it I could tell that we had probably another couple hundred feet left to go and I told her as much. She started swearing again.

  "I hope there's an elevator to use on the way out. Otherwise you're carrying me because I can't handle all these stairs going the other way." She jabbed my shoulder with one finger as we walked and I simply nodded.

  Leaving was the last thing on my mind. There was still too much else to worry about. I just hoped that Grim would agree to the plan. Idly I crossed my fingers; a little extra luck never hurt anyone.

  Right?

  When we finally reached the bottom of the stairs we came out into a cavernous room with more monitors, computers and equipment than even Ghost had accumulated at his spot in Mexico.

  "Why New Orleans?"

  We turned to look at Rachel. She was standing on the bottom step looking around the room and didn't at first notice our scrutiny. When she finally turned back to us however her cheeks flushed slightly but she squared her shoulders and pressed on. "Seriously. Why New Orleans? It doesn't seem like the kind of place your average Vampire or Werewolf should hole up. It's too... Theatrical. Reminds me of that Anne Rice book and I keep expecting to see Brad Pitt wander out of a dark corner or something."

  "You found a smart one Gabe," Grim said after a few minutes with a satisfied sounding grunt. "Hit the nail on the head darling. This place is too much, hence why it's a good hiding place. I hate party towns, I hate Mardi gras, so no one would even think to look for me here, especially so far underground. With the whole city sinking basically this makes for a great spot. And very secure."

  He led us to a motley collection of furniture in one corner of the massive room and gestured for us to be seated while he went about mixing drinks. Let it never be said that Grim wasn't a hospitable individual once he'd invited you into his home. He had attempted many a time to drill the same manners into my head but it was hit or miss with me. Really depended on my mood.

  He finished quickly and set a tray down on a wooden coffee table with three glasses filled with ice and a selection of alcoholic bottles. He knew me too well as I immediately grabbed the Wild Turkey and poured myself a generous amount, leaving Ghost and Rachel to serve themselves as they desired.

  "Where's the meeting Grim?" I asked without waiting for the old wolf to settle himself. He barely flinched as he lowered himself into a comfortable looking arm chair but I did see the minute twitch as my words reached him.

  "No idea what you're talking about Pup," he stated. His nonchalant air pissed me off for some reason and I growled low in my throat, the sound amplified by the stone walls around us.

  "Don't fuck around with me right now, Alpha," I snarled, using his title as leader of the wolf packs. "You are speaking to the head of a clan, and as such we will treat each other with the same respect and integrity as is demanded by the treatise of The Brotherhood."

  Grim snorted derisively. "You have to have children to be a clan head, Gabriel. You know that better than anyone. And I know that you don't have any children. You are alone. If you die your entire possible clan dies with you. And that aside," he added. "Any clan you might create is not bound by the treatise. It only binds the four clans there at its creation."

  "There is a clause, however, to include new clans should they arise," Ghost cut it. "Gabriel could bind his clan to the treatise just as the other four clans bound themselves five hundred years ago."

  "You would have to attend a meeting of the four clan heads as well as the Alpha. You would need a member to recommend your clan to be brought into the Brotherhood and you would need another to second the motion which would then be brought to a vote between the three others."

  I grinned. "Good thing I'm sure you'll bring us along to the meeting that must have been called in response to my revealing the Fifth power to the world the other day. You can recommend our inclusion and I'm sure one of the others will second the recommendation just to avoid the possibility of war."

  "You forgot an option though," Grim pointed out.

  "No, I didn't," I sighed. "They could also agree as a group that I need to be put down to avoid the political chaos that would happen if a new party came onto the scene." Grim nodded.

  "This is a dangerous game pup. And again, you don't have any children. That alone would not allow you any possibility of a say or a seat at the council. And even if you had made children, and they did agree, would you really want the responsibility of being a clan head?"

  "No," I agreed. "I don't want that. But I want to die even less."

  Grim eyed me; his dark eyes gleamed with tinges of
amber as he seemed to stare directly into my soul. It seemed to me that he found me wanting as he weighed the measure of my conviction. I couldn't blame him. I had basically come to his door, hat in hand like a beggar or like the famed Oliver Twist saying, 'please sir, can I have some more?’

  I wouldn't be too surprised if he sent us packing immediately. Or if he tried to kill me himself right there. And I do say tried. As much as I respected the old wolf I would do everything I could to stay alive and to protect Rachel. Plus, he'd lost the advantage he'd held outside with a rifle pointed at my face.

  Without taking his eyes off of me he spoke to Rachel. "You hungry, girl?" he asked.

  "Um... Yeah, actually," she said, hesitantly.

  "Head down that way," he said, pointing to a narrow doorway carved into the wall. "There's a kitchen at the end of the hall. Not sure what you'd like but feel free to help yourself. I need to have a little chat with my old student."

  She snorted, rather indelicately. "Is that your polite way of telling me to get lost, no humans required for this conversation?"

  "If that's what I meant that's what I would say. Ask Gabe, I'm not the kinda person that wastes time trying to spare someone's feelings by being 'polite'." The entire time he spoke his eyes still never left mine and I could feel a bead of sweat beginning to wend its say down the side of my face. It itched and tingled and I wanted to swipe at it but I dared not move. Instead I simply focused on blinking as little as possible and continued to meet his gaze as steadily as I could.

  She grumbled about it, seeming unconvinced, but after a moment her hunger overtook her desire to be recalcitrant and Rachel made her way off toward the kitchen.

  The moment she was out of sight we all heard the quiet whisper of her footsteps halt as she hid around the bend, obviously hoping to eavesdrop.

  "Keep walking, little miss," Grim called. "We can all tell you're hiding there trying to listen in."

  She growled, annoyed, but she turned and walked on down the hall. When the sound of her footsteps finally faded Grim sat forward in his chair and eyed me with even greater intensity, if such a thing were possible.