Reunion

by Sean Stone

  Whilst he’d been changing she’d disappeared. That wasn’t good. The first time a werewolf changed was always bad. The animal took over and the wolf ran on instinct. That meant there was a wild wolf running around somewhere and she would kill whatever she desired. The first time Eric changed he’d killed three deers and a woman who’d been foolish enough to wander into werewolf territory. He had to find Natalie before she got herself into trouble. If she stayed in the woods behind the house she should be okay. Eric’s family had owned the woods for generations and enforced the privacy of the place. It was a good place for the more senior members of the pack to run during the full moon.

  He picked up her trail easily enough. Eric sniffed out her scent straight away and began following his nose through the mud. He came to a discarded deer carcass. Eric took a closer look. A few bites had been taken. Something must have caught her attention. He sniffed the air twice and resumed following the scent. The farther he ran the more concerned he became. The trail was nearing the edge of Thorndale and would soon be in Wandworth. Wandworth was coven territory and wolves were not allowed there. He sped up and raced across the boundary that separated the territories. Her scent was getting stronger. Then he heard a scream. He shot towards the sound but when he arrived he was too late. He saw her under a tree. She was a small wolf with light brown fur that was sleek and straight. He didn’t have time to admire her wolf appearance, though. Natalie was tucking into another feast. Eric lifted his head and let out a long howl, summoning his seniors to him. He’d need their help clearing this up. Then he stalked over slowly. He could see that it was a human straight away and the scream had been a give away even before he arrived. When he got closer she growled at him and he growled back. He had to make her submit to him and accept him as alpha right away. He couldn’t allow her the same freedoms she was given in her human form. She tensed up and faced him, lips curled back, teeth on display. Eric gave her a hard stare and advanced. Eric’s grandad showed me this trick when he’d been a boy. Most werewolves were intimidated by the stare of an alpha and it alone was enough to make them back down. The problem here was Natalie had not grown up in a pack. She didn’t have any natural werewolf instincts. She lowered onto her haunches, getting ready to pounce. Then the others arrived. Gus, Dana, Finn and Kyle padded out of the trees and flanked Eric. Natalie’s eyes darted between them as she assessed the situation. She lowered her head and backed away slowly, surrendering her prize to Eric. He sniffed the mauled body over. A simple human victim could be rectified. An apology to the council and some sort of penance and the whole thing could be brushed away. But this was not an ordinary human. It was a sorcerer.

  Dean waited until 11:33pm and then he went to Winters Research. As expected the security guard had gone on his patrol of the building three minutes ago. He’d be gone for half an hour. Dean got his kit out and in a matter of seconds he’d picked the lock and was inside the building. He’d spent days planning his break in and was confident that he could pull it off. Finding and rescuing his father was another matter entirely. He’d chosen the night of the full moon for his little quest because he knew that at least some of the SIT agents would be on werewolf watch. He’d bribed an employee for the security schedule and for blueprints of the building. As expected there were no secret rooms on the blueprints but there was a suspicious blank space that ran right the way through the building and it was roughly the size of an elevator shaft. That space was directly adjacent to the CEO’s office. Dean believed it was more than coincidence.

  He avoided the lift for two reasons. One: a passcode was required for the executive floor which he did not have, and two: the security guard might notice the lift moving in the middle of the night. Instead, he headed for the stairs and began his ascent. The executive floor was right at the very top of the tower and he was thankful that he kept in good shape. The door leading from the stairwell was locked but locks weren’t a problem for him. He picked it and entered. The lights blinked on straight away and he headed for the CEO’s office. It was called the CEO’s office on the blueprints but Dean’s informant had told him that the CEO had been relocated and the owner, Clara Winters had taken the office. Dean was the same age as Clara and they’d gone to school together until he’d left town. They weren’t friends, in fact they barely knew each other, but they had known each other enough to recognise one another in the street. Now, it seemed that they were on opposing sides. She was part of SIT and had his father locked up. From what Dean had learned so far it was with good reason but that didn’t mean he was going to let it go. Despite their estrangement, James was still Dean’s dad and he wasn’t going to leave him in the hands of SIT.

  He picked the lock to the CEO’s office and slipped in. The room was vast but luckily he didn’t need to search it all. The blank space on the blueprints was adjacent to the wall behind the desk. He only needed to look there. No doubt there was a secret door somewhere which led to the secret base. They were no cameras in the office and the security guard did not patrol the executive floor, so Dean had all night to find what he was looking for.

  He pressed his ear to the wall and began knocking. He worked his way across the whole wall, listening for a change in the density but it was all solid. The only items of furniture were a bookcase and a cabinet. The bookcase was the obvious choice so he started with that. He pulled a few books off at random locations to see if they were triggers but none were. Next he grabbed hold of the edge and heaved. It was heavy and he only managed to move it less than an inch, but that was enough. He pulled out his torch and shone it behind the bookcase. Just plain old wall. He pushed it back and looked over at the cabinet. It had to be concealing the entrance. There was nothing else there. Unless there was no secret entrance. He pulled open the cabinet doors and knew at once that he was right. The cabinet was totally empty. He reached in and knocked twice on the back of it. A metallic sound issued from it when it. The back of the cabinet was made of metal but the rest was made of wood. Bingo. He took a quick look around to make sure he was still alone and then stepped into the cabinet. He examined the corner where the back met the side and saw a very thin gap. Imperceptible to the average person but he was not the average person. He placed both palms on what he was sure was the door to the lift and tried to ease it open. It didn’t budge an inch. No doubt it was protected by magic. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the enchanted knife. He slid the blade into the gap as far as he could and then tried to force the door open with that. It still didn’t move. The dagger should’ve broken any magical seal. He removed the dagger and then stabbed it straight into the door. There was a small fizzling noise and then a burst of fiery energy blasted him out of the cabinet. He catapulted into the desk and smashed the back of his head on its edge. He sat on the floor rubbing the sore, but not bloody, spot on his head and wondering how has going to get through the door when the magical protection was so strong. Then he heard the noise. Faint. Growing louder. Foot steps. Someone was coming. He shot to his feet, grabbing the knife from the floor as he did. He pushed the cabinet doors closed and then looked around. He needed to hide before whoever it was found him. He ran over to the filing cabinet and ducked behind it. He kept the knife in his hand. He didn’t want to use it but if he had to then he would. Then he realised that the lights were on. All the lights seemed to be on a motion sensor which meant whoever was coming would know that something had triggered them. There was nothing he could do about that, though.

  A few seconds later the door opened and a young blonde woman entered. Dean recognised her straight away. Clara Winters. She didn’t look much different from when they were in school. She’d developed into a more shapely woman and lost all those spots, but otherwise she was the same. She didn’t pause or look around when she entered. She hadn’t noticed the lights. Or it hadn’t registered. Either way Dean was in the clear. He peeked around the filing cabinet and watched as she went over to the bookcase. She picked up a book — he couldn’t see which — and did something which he a
lso couldn’t see. The cabinet doors swung open of their own accord and then to his delight he watched the back panel slide open to reveal a glistening white lift car. Clara returned the book, stepped into the lift and then the cabinet shut on her.

  Dean didn’t wait a moment. He practically ran across the room, his heart pounding with excitement. He knew which shelf she’d taken the book from but not which book. He started looking at each one until he found it. A large fake book with a button inside it. Pretty predictable. He hit the button and watched the cabinet open up again. Without a second thought he stepped inside.

  There were only two buttons in the lift. “Laboratory” and “Holding”. It seemed a reasonable assumption that SIT would keep the prisoners in holding so he went there. Most people in Dean’s position would have been nervous if not outright terrified, but Dean hunted vampires for a living and few things gave him the shivers anymore. His heart was still pounding away but it was with excitement more than fear. His plan had ended upstairs, he hadn’t known what to expect after that and, therefore, had no way of planning.

  The lift opened on a small lobby. On the left was an opening and on the far side was a door. Nobody was about and the area was silent. Still clutching the knife, Dean stepped into the lobby. Nobody jumped out to ambush him. There were still oblivious to his presence. He cased the room and found no surveillance. As far as police and other security agencies went, this one was shoddy. Not a single camera. He looked down the opening and saw a long walkway lined on either side with glass boxes that looked like they were built to hold people. A few were clear and empty but the majority had been blacked out so he could not see inside. As he approached he saw that each one had a label. Names. He read them in turn as he walked. Elias Barren. Alanis Knight. Jamal Rasul. Lucian La Marck. James Tenson.

  He stopped at his father’s cage. This was it. His palms were sweaty with anticipation.

  “Dad?” he whispered through the glass. “Dad?” he repeated a little louder. No doubt sound was blocked as well as sight. He lifted the knife and stabbed it hard into the glass. The glass cracked as the knife went in. The blackness cleared from the crack outwards and there on the other side of the glass was James. He was unshaven and looking rough but otherwise he looked fine. His eyes widened at the sight of Dean and he jumped up off the floor. He hadn’t even been given a chair. Amnesty International would have a field day with this place.

  “Dean, what are you doing here?” he asked. He stepped up to the glass but was reluctant to touch it.

  “I’m rescuing you. Hang on, I’ll break the glass.” Dean yanked the knife out but as soon as it was free the crack refilled and the glass blackened again. “Bugger,” Dean muttered. He stabbed three times consecutively but not once did he achieve more than a crack. He did manage to clear it again, though.

  “Give up, son. You won’t break it. It’s made with magic,” James said resignedly.

  “This knife breaks magic,” Dean argued.

  “This magic is too strong,” James said. He didn’t seem particularly disappointed.

  “So how do I get you out?” Dean asked. The cage didn’t even have a door. He looked around for another weapon but there were none. The only other one he had on him was a gun loaded with wooden bullets.

  “You don’t. Get out of here, Dean. It’s not safe for you.”

  “And it’s safe for you, is it? I’m not leaving you here.”

  “You are. You don’t have a choice.”

  “Don’t try to be the hero,” he argued.

  “I’m not being a hero. Far from it. But you can’t get me out and I won’t risk you ending up in one of these,” James said. “I am in no danger.”

  “Sure looks different from where I’m standing.”

  James smiled. “Looks can be deceiving. Trust me no-one is going to hurt me. Not in any way I can’t handle at least. I’m immortal and full of magic. None of the twats on SIT has enough power to cause me any real harm. You’re not immortal and you have no magic. So go.”

  Dean shifted on the spot. James had a point and he certainly didn’t seem to be harmed at all. It wasn’t a nice thought but Dean had to admit that James was the villain in this scenario. But that didn’t mean he was going to leave him here.

  “How will you get out?” Dean asked. “I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’ll be able to escape.”

  “I don’t know the ins and outs of it, but I will get out. I promise. In the cages around you are the twelve disciples of Nickolas Blackwood. These morons can’t expect to hold us here for long. They’re in over their heads and they know it. I can smell the fear on them when they came up here,” James said confidently. “Go home. Keep your head down. Wait for me.”

  “How long?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m not leaving without a time frame.”

  “I don’t know, Dean. Let’s say a fortnight,” James suggested.

  “A week,” he countered even though he knew James couldn’t guarantee a thing. He couldn’t even be sure he was going to escape.

  “Alright. One week and I’ll come home. I will find a way out of this box. Now go.”

  Dean nodded. He didn’t say another word. He ripped the knife free and watched his dad disappear behind the curtain of blackness. Then he made his way down the corridor. He didn’t reach the end before a man appeared in his path. He was tall with dark hair and pale skin. A vampire.

  “They let you lot on the police now?” Dean asked. He reached for his gun.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” the vampire said.

  “All you need to know is that I hunt your kind for a living,” Dean said. The vampire’s face twisted into one of disgust. Dean aimed the gun and the vampire ran at him. He got three shots out just in time and the vampire fell down at his feet. He was on his hands and knees, grunting in pain and dripping blood on the immaculate floor. Dean had avoided the heart; it wouldn’t do to kill a police officer. He put another bullet in his head to temporarily kill him and keep him from getting back up for a while. Dean kept the gun out and jogged around the corner back to the lift. He didn’t see the others until it was too late. Four people surrounded him. None of them vampires. His gun was next to useless.

  “Drop it and get on your knees,” Clara Winters said as she stepped out of the lift. Dean looked around, assessing his odds. Clara waved her hand and the gun flew from his grip and clunked to the floor. His reaction time was quick. He pulled the knife out and got it up just in time to bock whatever magical attack she threw at him. Her magic hit the blade and sizzled out. He had no chance of winning against four of them. He placed the knife on the floor, raised his hands above his head and then dropped to his knees.

  “What are…” Her mouth fell open and he knew that she recognised him. “Dean Tenson?” she asked in amazement.

  “The one and only,” he replied.

  “Tenson? As in…” one of others asked.

  “Yeah. Get him in a cage,” Clara said.

  9

  “Why don’t we just burn the body and pretend we don’t know anything?” Kyle suggested. Eric had called his senior wolves to a meeting about the dead sorcerer. Natalie had locked herself away in one of the guest rooms and refused to let Eric in. He’d give her until this afternoon to come to terms with what she’d done and then he was breaking the door down.

  “They’re sorcerers they’ll figure it out,” Finn said. He looked at Kyle as though he were a moron.

  “Finn’s right. They’ll be able to link us to it somehow. Do we even know who she was?” Eric asked.

  “No idea,” Finn replied.

  “What options do we have?” said Eric. It was his first external problem since becoming alpha. All his others were internal and had been easy to deal with. Execution and murder removed most issues. Unfortunately, this problem had arisen because of a killing. It wasn’t a murder. It had been an accident. But would the coven see it that way?

  “Only one. You have to meet with the
dynast and explain what happened. Try and make them understand it was an accident,” Finn said.

  “That sounds a bit like begging for forgiveness,” Eric said. An alpha did not beg.

  “The alternative is war. The coven won’t let this go which means it will end in fighting. If that happens then SIT will get involved and in turn MI5,” warned Finn.

  “Yes, yes, I get it,” Eric said irritably. “Things were so much simpler when the council ran things.”

  “Simpler — yes. Better — no,” Gus said. Eric agreed. A wolf packed answered to no-one.

  “Being alpha isn’t just about being strong. It’s about being smart. Being diplomatic and protecting the pack,” Dana said.

  “What would Connor have done?” Eric asked. Straight away he saw that he’d made a mistake. Her face creased and she had to fight off whatever unhappy feelings had overcome her.

  “Connor… He would have ignored the issue and let the coven get upset. He would never have swallowed his pride long enough to apologise,” Dana said. “He was strong, but not always smart. He would have seen asking for forgiveness as weakness but it isn’t. It’s just what you do in these situations.”

  Eric nodded. “Who is the dynast at the moment?” It was hard to keep up with the ever-changing dynast of the coven. In the past few months they’d gone through three already. Not that the pack was any better; Eric was the third alpha in the same amount of time.

  “Eleanor Little is the acting dynast,” Finn said.

  “Set up a meeting. I’ll see if I can smooth things over.” Eric left the room without another word.

  Eric knocked on the door. “Nat, come on. Let me in,” he said gently. “Hiding away isn’t going to solve anything.”

  There was no reply.

  “Nat, if you don’t open the door I’m going to kick it in,” he warned.

  Still no reply.