Call of the wolf

by R Murray

  Shaking her head, she turned to face Melaina,

  “No. No, I will not be a pawn in yours and Nikolas's games again. I swore that I would leave that life behind, that I would put my powers to better use, and I have done just that, for nearly a century I have done what I set out to do. I will not go back to a life I hated, to your life, just to kill a handful of werewolves. That is your job Melaina, not mine. You are the dark witch now, you always have been, and you can take my answer back to Nikolas.”

  There were a few moments of silence before Melina let out a cold laugh,

  “Little sister you never learn, do you? You do not say 'no' to Nikolas, he controls us, he can take our powers and our immortality from us with a mere click of his fingers.”

  “Then let him, I do not care to be a witch, I am tired of it. Let me go about my life and die like all the other mortals,” Emilie fired, just as a force hit her and she found herself pinned against the wall. Fear coursed through her veins as Melaina stood to approach her. Emilie realized that she had been fooling herself in thinking her sister no longer held a power over her. Melaina was the elder witch, and therefor would always have a hold on her.

  Standing so close now that Emilie could feel her sister’s warm breath on her face, cold blue eyes locked with hers as Melaina uttered her final words,

  “You will come to the Louvre tomorrow, and you will do as Nikolas demands of you, I will be watching your every step. Should you go against us in any way, I will kill you myself.” And with that last threat ringing in her ear she felt Melaina release her as she swept out of the house, leaving Emilie to sink to the floor knowing that she must step back into the world she had hidden from for so long.

  Chapter Two

  “Will she do it?” Nikolas asked without even looking up from the endless papers on his desk. He had known as soon as the door opened that Melaina had returned from her visit to Emilie. A taloned hand coming down on the papers stopping him in his work confirmed his thoughts.

  “Of course, she will. You doubted my ability to convince her?” Melaina questioned, causing him to lift his gaze to meet hers.

  “Well you failed to track down a pack of dogs, I was not so sure that you would redeem yourself by convincing your sister,” he replied, laughing at the look of anger spreading across her pale features.

  “You underestimate the wrong person Nikolas. Emilie is easy to scare into doing what I want her to do, in fact I barely had to try; it was a disappointment. It was far too easy; I was expecting more of a fight. She will be here tomorrow; I just hope you have better information as to where she can find her prey. Even if we do not have the pack at least find the youngest of them.” Melaina stopped to look down on the parchments in front of her, her eyes scanned over the words one jumping out, and Nikolas watched fear flicker in her eyes.

  “Revolution? Your informant fears that they are planning a revolution?” she asked. Nikolas nodded leaning back in his chair, he would not lie to her.

  “It is what is thought. We have not told the King yet; I want to be sure and that is why I need Emilie within the Pack as soon as possible. The wolves planned one a century ago, but the King at that time managed to stop it. It is the age-old war between the French Vampires and the English Wolves; they were bound to try again. Only this time they are stronger and there are more of them than last time. If what we think is true, then we will not have much time to stop it and it will just be us that will be able to,” he explained, watching as the Dark Witch paced up and down the room.

  “Melaina there is nothing we can do until I release your sister with our plan,” Nikolas said, waving his hand flippantly. “Go to the dungeons, there are some fresh prisoners that need punishing, the King has given permission for you to do as you wish with them. Have a go and take your frustrations out on the prattling mortals. I have much work to do so I would like you to leave, I will see you tomorrow,” he said indifferently, listening to her heels click across the marble floor and the door shut behind the witch. He sighed deeply picking up his quill. Dark times were ahead and their only hope was the White Witch that had been hidden for so long.

  Melaina stalked towards the dungeons of the Louvre, barely noticing the guards as they jumped out of her way. Her reputation for evil was not unknown, and whereas she normally basked in the light of the fear that radiated off anyone she came near, today her mind was elsewhere. The future of France, of the Lamia, once more rested on the shoulders of her sister. The White Witch, who despite being just as powerful as Melaina, refused to use such power to protect France. Instead Emilie had chosen to become a healer. Growling angrily Melaina threw open the door to the nearest cell, releasing a ball of black light, it engulfing the worthless soul that occupied the small room. The man cried out finding himself pinned against the cold stone wall. Terrified brown eyes fixed on her as she moved towards him, twisting her hand slightly hearing the crunch of bones as the prisoner’s arms shattered. The pathetic excuse of a man screamed out again.

  “Oh please. Trust me, this death is going to be just what you deserved and more. Stop your protest fool, and let me have a little fun. It has been a bad day, you unfortunately are my chosen release tonight.” Melaina snarled, throwing out another ball of black evil watching it tear at the skin of the man, the smell of burning flesh a balm to her soul. She felt no remorse as she finished the murderer off. Soon bored of playing with her toy, he was being so easy and pathetic not making her game worth it. She much preferred it when they fought back, even just a little bit. Looking down upon the crumpled from of the man, she briefly wondered what went through the mind of the mortals when the decided to commit the crimes that they did. The evil that must run through them would be worth harnessing for an army, and army easily created and trained, ready for the rabid dogs that were once more threatening the Lamia, and seeking what they would never get. Smiling darkly, a plan began to form in her mind, a plan so great it would make the Lamia the strongest they had ever been. There were so many dead men sitting in the cells of France, and with a simple bite, and a weave of dark magic they could become the most powerful, deadliest killing machines amongst the Forsaken. Leaving the cell and making her way back to her rooms. The dark plan running wild in her mind, she would not approach the King with such an idea, for she was certain he would not consent, but there was one other that would most certainly agree with the hand she was about to play, and he would be the puppet master behind it.

  Chapter Three

  A slab of meat landed next to Maccon as he lazed on the bed in a deserted hunting lodge he and his two brothers had found on the outskirts of Paris. Steel coloured eyes opened to glance warily at the offered meal, his nose twitched slightly the smell repulsing him.

  “Is this it?” Maccon asked, turning an unimpressed gaze upon the person standing in front of him. Conan growled in frustration before taking his own seat in an old chair that just about held his muscled body.

  “You should learn to be less fussy Maccon. We are no longer in England, we cannot expect the same luxury of a meal as we had in London,” he fired back, Maccon was about to answer when their alpha stalked in, his large frame blocking out the sunlight seeping in through the door. Caramel eyes fixed in an agitated glare upon the two younger males of their pack.

  “Conan is right Maccon, you cannot expect fine meat in a country that is run by blood sucking vermin. They would not know what a good piece of meat would look like, smell like, or taste like. Now eat or go hungry because you will get nothing else tonight,” Raff stated, he himself picking up a raw steak on the table and began devouring it, though Maccon could tell that he was not enjoying any of it.

  “You know we could go hunting. There is so much game out there, I can smell it just sitting in here and the temptation is too great Raff,” Maccon said, reaching reluctantly for his own meal and forcing the bloodied meat down. He could feel Raff's cold stare on him, shifting slightly under it, he could almost feel Conan smirking as he waited for Raff's answer.

  �
�I am not even going to bother with an answer to that Maccon,” Raff sneered around the stringy meat in his mouth.

  “Besides I would not want to touch anything that lived here, who knows what viruses could be running through their veins?” Conan piped up through a mouthful of food. Maccon snarled a warning to his brother before turning his attention to Raff.

  “How long must we hide in this awful place? We have been here four days already and nothing has happened. You have issued no summons to the packs and I am getting cabin fever. At least let us explore the streets, get their layout, so that we know them well when we are to start this revolution.”

  Raff sighed deeply, why could this boy not be like Conan, why did Bardou insist that he accompany them on this mission? Conan was smart, strong and adhered to the rules. Maccon was the opposite and he was the newest to the Silent Walkers pack. He had much to learn, but learning he was not willing to do.

  “We conceal ourselves for as long as is expected of us. Bardou has been in contact with the political leaders here, they know we lay in wait to be given orders and they know where we are,” Raff replied.

  “But I am so bored, Conan is permitted to go out amongst the mortals to gather food, yet I must stay here and guard us from what? Birds?” Maccon whined. Conan stood pouring himself a large glass of wine.

  “I am permitted to roam freely because I am not at risk of being observed and followed. You are careless; all it would take was a pretty little thing to walk past and your lust for the fairer sex would take over your senses,” Conan teased, causing Maccon to bristle at the accusation.

  “It would not! I do not hunt females any longer, I am over that. I am seeking a proper mate now. Like our friend Raff,” he defended himself. Raff laughed pouring both him and Maccon a glass of wine, handing the pup a cup.

  “You have a lot of growing up to do Maccon before anyone would want to mate with you. The reason I do not trust you out on the streets is because the vampires are very aware of our presence, and they already have their pet witches hunting us,” Raff explained seriously. Maccon took a deep sip of wine, he had to give the blood drinkers some credit; they knew how to make good wine.

  “Fine, I get it,” Maccon pouted, “but I am truly hurt you both underestimate me so much so that you do not think I can look after myself in the mortal world,” he said, a look of mock hurt flashing in his eyes.

  “We know you can look after yourself you fool, it is the poor mortals out there that we fear for,” Conan teased, ducking as a glass came flying at him covering him in scarlet liquid.

  “Damn you, you Maccon! This was a bloody expensive shirt! You will be paying for a new one,” Conan snarled. Maccon reached for the bottle taking a swig from it flashing his brother a dark smirk in reply.

  Emilie stood for few moments outside the gates of the Louvre, pushing the hood of her red cloak down, she raised her eyes taking in the large building. She hated this place, hated the air of death surrounding it and the royal family. She hated vampires no matter who they were. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the gates smiling sweetly at the guards as she passed them. Walking slowly towards the entrance, a voice stopped her before she could get much further.

  “I am so glad you decided to come Emilie, a small part of me was concerned you would refuse.” She turned to face Nikolas, it having been over a decade since she had seen the old witch, and he looked no different to how he had then. He still looked so young.

  “Nikolas, it has been such a long time since I have seen you, and you have not aged a bit,” Emilie greeted him, inclining her head as she did so out of respect.

  “Walk with me Emilie. Do not worry; your sister is not here, I have sent her to the Bastille to torture a few prisoners,” he assured her as Emilie reluctantly fell into step with him. She stiffened feeling the eyes of the King on her. Risking a glance, she saw him standing at the window staring at her with cold dead eyes. For a moment, she could not break the gaze shared between them, no matter how much she wished to. She wondered what it was he was thinking, she did not like that she could not read any emotion in the Vampire. Finally, she tore her eyes away from him and returned them to the man beside her.

  “So, will you please tell me what exactly is going on? Melaina told me bits, but I have learnt in life to not always trust what she says, she tends to be cryptic or exaggerate the truth,” Emilie said, smiling as Nikolas laughed at her accurate assessment of her sister.

  “You speak the truth there Emilie, I would not be lying by saying that you have always been my more favoured of the two of you, though Melaina's powers are stronger and of better use in the world I work in. I know that this is not easy for you Emilie, that you have settled into a life away from the darkness and you are excelling in the ways of healing; but this is important and I need your powers,” Nikolas explained as he led them to a bench under a lone tree.

  “That much I have been told already Nikolas; I want to know what is going on, what the wolves are planning. I want to know what it is I am being led into,” Emilie told him firmly, her eyes darkening as she silently warned him not to lie.

  “Very well. I believe there to be three wolves that have recently arrived from London; they are of the Silent Walkers pack. The oldest pack in England. As far as I am aware they have made no move as yet; but I need to know what their plan is, who they are here to support, how many are coming over from England and when exactly they plan to strike...”

  “Not much then,” Emilie interrupted, Nikolas gave her a side glance before continuing.

  “I know it is much to ask from you Emilie. I remember your vow to me over a century ago during the last war, but I would not be asking if it were not important. I need you to get inside the pack. It will not be difficult to charm the youngest pup; nor will it be hard to pick that one out of the three that are here. The difficulty comes in remaining undetected, but I have every faith in your abilities.” Emilie did not speak for a few moments, she was still against this, but she knew she had no choice.

  “And if I fail?” She asked.

  “We do not need to discuss that, because you will not fail,” Nikolas replied, in a tone so calm it sent a shiver down her spine. She knew Nikolas well enough to hear the hidden threat in his words. The threat Melaina had warned her of, the loss of her powers and mortality if she were to fail at her task. But then would that be so bad? She had always resisted the curse that had been bestowed upon her. Would it truly be so bad if she were to lose it? Finally, she agreed,

  “I will do it. When do you wish me to start?”

  “Tomorrow you start your hunt, I will have Melaina follow you to be sure all runs smoothly and you are not in any danger, she will watch over you. I need to be sure that you do what is expected of you and nothing more,” Nikolas stated. Again, Emilie picked up on the underlying threat in his words, she knew he did not trust her completely and that he had lied when he had said she was his favourite. Melaina, the dark witch, always had been and always will be. Standing she pulled her cloak tighter round herself to block out the cold wind that had suddenly appeared.

  “And how exactly do you suggest I get myself amongst them?”

  Nikolas shrugged lightly, “You and your sister are powerful witches Emilie; I am sure you can come up with something between you both.”

  Emilie looked down upon her master in disgust; she could not believe that she was doing this again, and with such little guidance from him.

  “I am sure we can. Good day to you Nikolas,” turning from him Emilie made her way quickly from the palace grounds. Stopping as the gates closed behind her she took a deep breath of fresh living air before making her way back towards her home, her mind whirling with a way to stumble upon the wolf pack.

  Melaina sat listening to Emilie relay all that had passed between her and Nikolas earlier that day. She could feel her sister's frustration as she spoke and in some respect, she understood. Nikolas had proven quite unhelpful once again in aiding them in this endeavour. They were expected to
carry out his dirty work, with very little guidance.

  “So, we must figure out a way for me to just stumble upon the pack,” Emilie finished off, dropping down in the only other chair in the small living area. The flickering illumination from the fire dancing in the stone hearth the only light in the otherwise dark room. Melaina stayed silent for a few moments processing all she had heard, then sighing deeply.

  “Emilie, I do not know what it is you expected. He has never been the most supportive master, well not for the last 200 years at least. We are minions that dance on the puppet-master's strings. We do his bidding and watch him take the credit. The day will come when we will not play that part; but for now, we must do all that is commanded of us,” Melaina replied with a bitterness held behind her words.

  “Well do you have any brilliant ideas how to accomplish this task?” Emilie fired back.

  Melaina smiled darkly taking a sip of the wine held in her hand, “I do actually, and it is so very simple. We create a storm and you shelter in their hideaway.”

  “Which would be all well and good if we knew where exactly they were hiding,” Emilie pointed out.

  “Which I do. While you were having a cosy chat with Nikolas I was playing in the Bastille, and I found out where our little puppy friends are hiding. There is an old run-down hunting lodge on the outskirts of the city. It has not been used for nearly a decade, yet there has been recent activity. Three men staying there who are rarely seen in the city. It is them Emilie!” Melaina explained, watching as her sister stayed silent. She could see the disappointment on her face, Melaina knew she had been hoping that she would have a little longer to put off the task.

  “So, tomorrow at dusk, you will be in the woods seeking out wild flowers; or whatever it is you use for your medicines, just at the time I shall conjure up a storm so bad that you must seek shelter in the lodge. Maybe you could stumble and fall, giving yourself an injury requiring you to stay in the lodge for a few days. They would not leave a mortal out in the woods bleeding, it too easily preyed upon by vampires. Wolves may not like mortals, but they are more compassionate than the vampires, they would never leave an injured human alone,” Melaina finished, taking another sip of the blood red liquid.