Full Moon Rising - 02

by Heath Stallcup

  If Rufus’ blood could run any colder, it would have chilled to ice. He recognized the tinny voice immediately. It sounded as though Foster was on a train, but he could still detect the superior tone and his odd inflections.

  “Paul. What can I do to you?” he asked, purposely changing the greeting.

  Foster laughed lightly. “Ah, Rufus. Surely you aren’t still upset at how we left things all those long years ago, are you?”

  “Meet with me, Foster, and I’ll show you how forgiving I can be.” He replied coldly.

  “Yeah, I don’t think so. At least, not until we can agree to a truce.”

  “That will never happen. When next we meet, I will hold your cold undead heart in my hands and will rip your throat out with my teeth.” He hissed.

  “Such violent tendencies, Rufus. You should really talk to someone. Perhaps counseling?”

  “We are done, Foster.” Rufus was about to hang up when Foster interjected.

  “The Lamia Humanus! Thorn! They are planning something!” He paused to see if Thorn would hear him out. When he didn’t hear a dial tone and saw that the line was still connected, he continued, “I am proposing a truce so that we may form an alliance in order to deal with the Lamia Humanus.”

  This time it was Thorn’s turn to laugh. “I could never trust you again, Foster. You are…”

  “A Blood Alliance.” He interrupted. “Blood honor, for the duration of the alliance.” Thorn was silent. “The Humanus intend to begin the Apocalypto, starting with the human hunters.”

  “I am aware of this.” Rufus responded flatly. “I am taking precautions as we speak.”

  “Really? How? Organizing your goat suckers into an army?” he laughed. “I already have an army! An army of real vampires to deal with them!”

  “Then what do you want with me?” Thorn asked, already knowing the answer.

  Foster sighed, long and heavy. “Because it is not enough.” He admitted. “They are too many. They are recruiting from coast to coast, every vampire from familia to gangs to misfits. One big overwhelming wave to take out all the hunters at once. I will need more than just my organization to do this.”

  “Your organization?” Thorn asked.

  Foster laughed again. “Yes, my organization. You see, Rufus, while you were content to sit on your island and rot in your self-pity, I was building a global organization. I spread my progeny far and wide. People of power, money and influence. And with those people come more underlings than I can count. Each and every one of them answer to me.”

  “Then why would you want my little group of Beastia stuck on our little island?” Thorn inquired.

  “Because the same wolf that gave me your contact information and told me about your little island also told me that you act as the head of all the Lamia Beastia.” Foster paused. “Something tells me that your New-Age blood suckers are a lot higher in number than even I dare to suspect.”

  “You dare suspect correctly.” Thorn responded. “We are substantial.”

  “Well, there ya go.” Foster was back to his smart-assed self. “So what do you say, my friend?”

  “I say, I am not your friend.” Thorn considered the proposition. If Foster was correct and his people were truly global and great in numbers, they could make a valued ally in the war. “But I will give your proposition consideration.”

  “Fantastic. When can we meet?”

  “Leave your number with my secretary. I’ll get back to you after my people get back to me.”

  “Why do you need your people’s input?”

  “I do not need my people’s input. I am in negotiations to enter an alliance with the human hunters. If I am to enter an alliance with you as well, they will need to know that you will be part of the alliance.”

  “What?!” Foster screamed into the phone. “We don’t need the hunters fighting our battles. The familia will have enough trouble honoring a victory with the aid of goat suckers, but if there are humans involved too, it will never…”

  “It is my way or none at all, Foster.” Thorn interjected. “Perhaps you need to consider, a victory is a victory, no matter how it is won. And a victory with the aid of those who are being targeted, is just that much more demeaning to the attacker.”

  Foster was quiet but still breathing hard on his end of the phone.

  “Besides…the hunters? They are not human. They are wolf. And when I go into battle, I bring my attack dogs with me. Consider them an extension of me.”

  Foster was floored. He had no idea that the human hunters weren’t human at all. The very thought of it had been foreign to him, but now that Thorn had dropped this bombshell on him, it did make sense. It explained the stories he had heard of their unusual strength and stamina. Their keen senses and ability to fight.

  “Very well, Thorn. Bring your hunters into the fight. What the hell do I care? Just as long as we win.”

  “One more thing, Foster.” He added.

  “What would that be, Rufus?”

  “When it comes down to the battle itself? I call the shots.”

  Foster was silent for a very long time. The idea of handing the reins of power to his own people over to another vampire did not sit well with him. Especially a vampire as old and powerful as Thorn. He considered the possibilities then remembered the Blood Alliance. As long as they made it clear in the alliance that Rufus was to turn his people back to him once the alliance was over, then he could not take control of them and either turn them against him or strip him of his own people. He mulled it over every way he could think of before he answered, “Agreed.”

  *****

  In an abandoned Roman cathedral, a lone dark figure sat and admired the marble artwork. It still amazed him after all these centuries that mere mortals had created such beautiful works of art with their own hands. How they could find a block of stone and somehow see something within it, and then release these things for the entire world to see and touch and feel…it filled him with awe. He had seen many things come and go in his life and there were few things that filled him with awe like statues of the ancient Greeks and Romans. Oh, how he hated the Romans and their vicious ways. How they could turn brother against brother, mother against child, all in the precious name of Rome. He was never so happy as when the cursed empire fell. But for all of the evil that they inflicted upon those that they conquered, their art…was breathtaking.

  Of course, any people who conquered the known world could afford to strip their conquered of their best. They could take their best warriors, their best blacksmiths, their sturdiest women, their best food, and of course, their most talented artists, all for the glory of Rome. He ran his hand along the sculptured muscled arm of the statue in front of him, studying the curve of the triceps muscle, the subtle arches that formed the horseshoe shape at the rear of the arm. So subtle, yet so realistic. The sheer talent the artist must have had to capture these curves captivated him.

  “Sicarii? We have word from the scouts.” Came a small voice from behind him. The vampire turned, his short dark hair, just beginning to curl at its ends. His eyes, dark and piercing, his lashes long and dark, his skin, even after all of these centuries, still held a hint of tan, his hand, never leaving the arm of the sculpture.

  “What word?” his voice, soft and silky, a hint of accent sing-songing across his lips.

  “Word is returning from the four corners, Sicarii. All are anxious to join in your vision.” The messenger’s head kept low, his eyes to the floor, his voice low in this once holy place.

  The vampire dared a slow smile. “Soon, Puppet. My vision of bringing His creation to its knees will be brought to fruition.”

  “Yes, Sicarii.” He whispered. “There are still a few familia we have not found.”

  The vampire looked down at the little messenger. He stepped down from what once was the altar of the cathedral and stepped toward him. He touched the messenger lightly under his chin and brought him to his feet. Slowly he lifted his face until he looked him directly
in the eye. “Tell me which familia cannot be found.”

  “They are still being searched out, Sicarii. You know they sometimes have to relocate.”

  “Inform me, Puppet.” He said softly.

  “There is one in Persia, another in Russia.” He swallowed quickly. “Two in America, one in Brazil. One in France.”

  “Very well.” He said. “If they are not found shortly, get me their names and their last known contacts. I will find someone who can either locate them or discover what happened with them.”

  “W-we are doing our best, Sicarii.” The little messenger stammered.

  “I know you are.” The vampire replied. “I know others who can do better. That is all.” He smiled. It sent a cold chill through the messenger who simply nodded. “Not to worry, Puppet. I will not dispatch you for letting me down. I will need every available vampire for the upcoming war.” He turned and stepped back to his statue. “Even weak ones like you.”

  The messenger, still trembling, breathed a sigh of relief. The sheer power flowing from the Sicarii always shook him to his very core. Regardless of the situation, he hated being in his presence. The messenger had been a vampire himself for nearly 80 years. He wasn’t exactly a baby vamp, but he had yet to reach the century mark. He would never consider himself a ‘strong’ being, but he had been in the presence of established vampires with true power before and he coveted it. None of them held a candle to the power that swirled and flowed from the Sicarii. The kind of power that emanated from him was enough to make him nauseous. That kind of power caused him to break out in cold sweats and his hands to tremble. And the saddest part was that he truly felt that the Sicarii was holding back.

  “Thank you, Sicarii.” He mumbled. “I live only to serve.” He turned and left, thankful to be away from the presence of such power and darkness.

  6

  Matt rubbed his eyes. His frustration level was high, but it was obvious, Nadia had told them what she knew when she spilled her guts topside. To her, a premonition was like a blurry feeling, not a clear picture and how do you describe a blurry feeling? He sat back in his chair and just now noticed that she and Jack were holding hands under the table, drawing strength from each other. He sighed and pulled the flask from his pocket again.

  “You okay, Skipper?” Jack asked.

  “Head’s killing me, Chief.” Matt looked at his watch. He still had hours to go before sundown and he was almost out of the wolf-brew that Evan had cooked up for him. The guard was unable to wake the doc to join them. No surprise there. Once a vampire went down for ‘sleep’, they were for all intent and purpose a corpse until they were ready to awaken.

  Once he popped the cap on the flask, Natashia waved her hand in front of her nose. “What are you doing? Poisoning yourself?” She grabbed the flask from his hand and sealed it.

  “Hey! I actually need that. It’s medicine.” Mitchell protested.

  “It is poison to a wolf, Colonel.” Natashia argued.

  “Who said I was a wolf?” Mitchell asked defensively.

  “Please, Colonel. I can smell it upon you.” She smiled. “And this?” she held the flask up and waved it in front of him, “This is poison to your wolf. No wonder it is fighting you.”

  “For your information, I’ve been shifting for a decade and it just gets worse.” Matt stated, holding his head in his hands. “That crap takes the edge off.”

  “Because you are poisoning your wolf.” She said sadly. “You need to embrace your wolf, Colonel Mitchell. That is the only way to gain any peace in your life as a man.”

  Matt raised his head and stared at her through bleary eyes. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “I can show you, if you will trust me.” She took his hands in hers and his heart raced momentarily. “Will you trust Tasha?”

  “I…um…well. Do I have a choice?”

  “No. Not if you want peace, then no. You do not.” She smiled at him and for a moment, his head didn’t hurt.

  Natashia turned to Jack and Nadia, “Give to us a moment, please. Some privacy.”

  “Come on, Sweetie. Let’s let mom work her magic.” Jack led her out of the interrogation room and gave them a little peace and quiet. Once outside he whispered to Nadia, “I really hope she can help. The pain he’s been in has been affecting his ability to lead. I’ve actually been worried about him.”

  “I thought you were angry with him?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I could sense it from you.” She said.

  Jack hesitated. “I’m still pretty sore with him that they didn’t come clean with us about the augmentation process.” He sighed heavily. “I understand why they did it, and I understand why they didn’t tell us, but I still think that it should have been my choice. Our choice.” Jack hooked his chin up toward the other squads. “Their choice.”

  “I understand.” She said and held him close. “But at the same time, if he had not done what he did, we would not be together, no?”

  Hard to argue with that kind of logic.

  Inside the interrogation room Natashia had pulled a chair over and sat in front of Matt. “First you need to relax. Breathe deeply.” She took his left hand and placed it on top of her right shoulder. “Hold your hand here and feel my wolf call to yours.”

  “I don’t want to feel my wolf…I’m trying to control it.”

  “Shhh! You cannot control it. You must accept it. Now listen to me and shut your eyes. Hold my shoulder here and feel my wolf. Let your mind open to your wolf and feel my wolf.” She took his right hand and placed it on her chest at her heart. “Feel here.” She said. She paused a moment. “Perhaps a bit higher, Colonel…at my heart.” She grinned wickedly.

  “I, uh..”

  “It is okay, Colonel. Men will be men.” She laughed.

  “You told me to close my eyes and feel.” He offered as an excuse.

  “So I did.” She laughed. “But with this hand, feel for my heart, please.” Natashia tried to not laugh as the colonel’s face flushed. She reached for his earlobe and gently rubbed with her left hand. Softly she told him, “Now, accept your wolf. He is you, and you are him. You cannot deny what is yourself.”

  “But I don’t want to accept…”

  “Shh! Accept the wolf. He is a part of you. He does not want to harm you. He knows that he is a part of you. He knows that he can only come out at the lunar cycle, but when he does come out, if he is harmed, you are harmed.” Her voice was like warm silk wrapping around his mind, calling to his wolf. “Accept him as he accepts you. Do not fight the calling.”

  “But why does it hurt so much?” Matt could feel himself letting go, allowing the wolf a little more access and he realized, the more he let go, the less it hurt. He let go a little more and more pain slipped away. Finally, he let go completely and all of the pain slipped from him and his body went from tensed to relaxed.

  “He is trying to warn you, Mitchell. Do you not feel the direness of his desire? He is trying to warn you…there is something looming on the horizon. Something that threatens you and those you love.” Her voice sounded as though she were in a trance. “He warns of the threat that Nadia sees. The darkness threatens you and your people, your pack, your…your mate?”

  “My wife is dead…”

  “Your wolf knows that your mate is near…very near.” She said softly. “You know it, too. But you fight him over the acceptance.”

  “My wife is…”

  “Who is she?” Natashia asked.

  “I don’t know…”

  “You do. Your wolf knows her too. He fights to be with her every time you look at her.” Natashia could see her face through the wolf’s eyes. “She is in…ice? How is she in ice?”

  “You can’t know that.” Matt said sounding half asleep.

  “Mitchell Mathews, your wolf tells me everything.” Matt’s eyes flew open at the mention of a name he hadn’t heard in years. “Accept your wolf, Mitchell.” The voice he heard now wasn’t the
woman he knew as Tasha. It was his wife’s voice and it broke Matt’s heart to hear it again. “The wolf will protect you and knows what is best for you. It is time for you to carry on. Let us go.”

  “What is this?!” Matt growled, he tried to turn away but he couldn’t move his hands, his body wasn’t his. He started to panic.

  “You accepted your wolf and now, the other side speaks to you.” Tasha told him. “It is telling you that you’ve held on long enough. It is time to pick up the pieces and carry on. Go on with your life so they can go on with their afterlife.”

  “This is lunacy…” Matt cried, his voice a cracked whisper.

  “No. This is Fate, Mitchell Matthews.” Tasha told him, her grip on him getting stronger. “The Fate of not only yourself and your pack, but all of mankind hangs in the balance. You may not know it yet, but what you do in the near future will play a very large role in how mankind fares in the war that is coming.”

  “What can you know about...”

  “The future is clouded, but it is being written. The alliances you make or don’t make will either decide the fate of mankind or seal it in blood.” She gasped. “Do not let mankind fall to the Lamia Humanus! The Sicarii comes!” she yelled, then collapsed.

  *****

  Jack and Nadia found themselves surrounded by a large handful of the Monster Squad again. Many had questions and only they could answer them. Unfortunately, most of the questions were of a more ‘personal’ nature.

  “Seriously, dude, she’s your mother-in-law?” Gus asked with a wink.

  Jack laughed. “Yeah, man, I know. But seriously, yeah. She’s Nadia’s mom.”

  “Dude, that is seriously fucked up. Having a mother-in-law that is as hot as your wife? I don’t think I could handle it.” He teased.

  “He handles her quite well.” Nadia interrupted. “And that is saying something good, because mother is very much the handful.”

  “Oh, you can say that again.” Gus smiled. “I’d love to get a handful of that.” He guffawed.

  “Tracy, could you be any more crude? She is my mother-in-law.” Jack said.