by L. C. Davis
“Couldn't he just be out with a friend?”
“Unless it's to the dungeon or a family function, Arthur doesn't go out,” I said, knocking. “I haven't seen him at the Lodge in a month.”
When there was no response, I knocked again. “Looks like he's not here. Maybe we should head back,” Hunter suggested.
“Just a sec,” I said, dropping to my knees to reach underneath the door. Sure enough, the spare was taped at the very bottom of the door on the other side. I pulled it out and unlocked it.
“Oh,” said Hunter, following me into the empty room. “That's a lot cleverer than hiding it under the doormat.”
“Arthur's idea,” I admitted, switching the lights on and closing the door behind us. The room was a mess as usual, but other than the pile of laundry that now covered it, my side remained largely untouched. A bag of half-eaten chips sat on Arthur's bed in front of the screen that displayed a frozen screen from the last first-person zombie shooter he'd been playing.
“He's been in here recently,” I said. “His session hasn't even timed out.”
“So why isn't he returning any of your calls?” Hunter asked warily.
“That's what I'm trying to figure out,” I muttered, opening the drawer I'd seen Arthur pull his small phone collection out of.
“Oh, so we're snooping?” Hunter asked enthusiastically. I was about to tell him to stop when my phone buzzed. I didn't need to look at it to know that it was Victor freaking out on me.
“Yes, and we don't have much time.”
“Your friends aren't very good at babysitting,” he remarked, pulling open the drawers that used to be mine.
“No, I just know them well and I'm good at exploiting their weaknesses,” I admitted. “Those are mine, you might have better luck with the closet or under the bed.”
“Got it,” he said, peeking underneath Arthur's bedspread. I turned my attention back to his desk. It was mostly just loose notes from class and miscellaneous things my pack rat roommate hadn't been able to throw away. Receipts from shops around campus, a chewed up eraser, some thumb tacks and a ruler. I gathered some of the papers and tried to put them back the way I'd found them, but something rolled to the back of the drawer when I slid it shut again.
I reopened the drawer and reached into the back, pricking myself on a stray tack before I retrieved the object. It was a thick silver ring with a family crest on the front. Much to my relief, it wasn't the same crest as the one on Prentice's ring. This one had a lion—or maybe it was a griffon—on the front, snarling at a snake within its grasp.
It was silly of me to think for a second that even if Arthur and Prentice were somehow affiliated he would be careless enough to leave such an essential object in a junk drawer.
“Now that's a library,” Hunter said, clearly impressed by something. When I turned around he was staring down at a storage tub filled with books that he'd pulled out from underneath Arthur's bed. The look on his face could only be described as lust. “I didn't even think some of these existed.”
“What did you find?” I asked warily, still holding the ring in my palm as I knelt down to examine the books. The spines were all faded to one degree or another and most of them looked antique.
“Sure as hell not his porn stash, but that would be far less incriminating,” he remarked, taking out a black-bound book with gold lettering. The title read, “SAMPA VARGR” in huge letters that resembled runes. I recognized vargr from one of Sebastian's titles. It meant wolf. Hunter offered me the book and I flipped through its pages, my heart pounding as the meaning of sampa became clearer with each successive illustration.
Huge bipedal wolves were being slaughtered in every way possible, each grotesque method culminating in a silver dagger through the heart. “Why does Arthur have a book on how to hunt werewolves?”
“Good question.” Hunter gave me a look that said I should already know the answer.
“What are the others?” I asked, shoving the book back in its place.
“This one is a seventeenth century guide to vampires, written by William H. Winters,” he said, holding up a large black tome. “He was one of the most influential members of the Family and largely responsible for a little debacle some folks call the Salem Witch Trials. Or, as your teacher probably likes to call him, Great Uncle Bill.”
I was lightheaded again and my temples were pounding, but there was no vampire mind control or mark to blame it on now. Only horror. “We have to get out of here,” I said, staggering to my feet.
“Hang on,” he said, plucking a red leather book from the drawer before shoving it back under the bed. “This might come in handy.”
“Just come on,” I said, kneeling down to replace the key. Once Hunter was out, I turned out the lights and shut the door before racing towards the stairs. Hunter tucked the book inside his jacket and zipped it up, following close behind me.
I checked my phone as I ran, expecting a message from Victor. Instead, there were several from Ulric.
Ten fifty: Get back here immediately.
Ten fifty-one: I hope you're enjoying yourself, because it's the last time you're going to see the outside world until you're forty.
Eleven ten: Found you.
A sense of foreboding came over me as I looked around for any signs of Ulric. None. Hunter and I made our way outside and my heart clenched as I realized he was nowhere in sight.
Had the hunters found him...?
Something grabbed the back of my shirt and hoisted me into the air. As I dangled, I could see Hunter's feet kicking the air as he thrashed against our captor. Before we knew what hit us, we were shoved into the back of a dark gray SUV that looked vaguely familiar. Probably from a kidnapping scene in a movie.
Once I was dropped unceremoniously into the back of the SUV beside Hunter I could make out Ulric's features as he loomed over the open door. “Not a word out of either of you,” he growled, his expression furious. He somehow managed to slam the sliding door before he reappeared up front in the passenger's side.
I was expecting Victor to be driving, but it was Clarence who turned to face us. “Do you ever take a break from causing trouble?” The question was clearly directed at me.
“Guess not,” I muttered, staring out the window as we drove out. “Where's Victor?”
“On the phone with the alpha from a pack in Canada,” said Ulric. “I told him to stay behind, it was easy enough to guess where you'd be.”
“Why? What's happening in Canada?”
“The hunters just attacked a clan of relatively peaceful vampires near the pack,” he said, sighing. “It looks like that note your former professor left was just to keep us all on our toes while they were off causing chaos elsewhere.”
“So everyone is safe for now?” I asked hopefully.
“Hunters seldom attack on their own, so if the group is in Canada, we're likely not going to see any trouble for the next day at least,” he replied. “Not that that makes us safe.”
He had calmed down somewhat since Clarence started driving. Clarence kept glancing back in the rearview mirror but his intense, almost menacing gaze surprisingly wasn't directed at me. No wonder he gave Hunter the creeps.
“Don't think you're off the hook,” said Ulric, glaring at me. “And you.” He turned to Hunter. “I would have expected better from you.”
Hunter gave him a submissive grin. “If there was gonna be a hunter showdown, I figured he'd be better off with company. Anyway, I kind of figured they were gone.”
“Then why on earth didn't you say anything?” Ulric demanded. His perplexity was outweighing his anger. That was a strategy I'd have try out on my own, confusing Ulric until he wasn't angry anymore.
“Like you said, it's better safe than sorry. It was just a hunch based on my observations, I didn't want another pack wiped out on bad intel,” he said, looking down at his hands to pick at his chipped black nail polish.
Ulric's expression softened, relaxing into his seat. “Well, as long as yo
u're staying with this pack, you need permission from myself or from Victor before leaving during a lockdown. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” Hunter sounded sincere and he looked like the picture of a groveling wolf with his head hanging down, but the playful wink he gave me suggested otherwise. I had never really had friends as a kid—constantly being shifted from one foster home to another made that difficult—but I imagined that getting scolded along with your friend in the back of your father's car for sneaking out after curfew was probably one of those bonding experiences I'd missed out on.
“Good. You and I will talk when we get home,” he said, thrusting an accusatory finger in my direction.
It was hard to miss Clarence's smug expression in the rearview. He was loving every minute of this. “That's fair,” I mumbled as we pulled into the parking lot. Vampire reflexes aside, the other three were out of the SUV before I had even managed to undo my seat belt. Before I even got my door halfway open, Ulric was on the other side, holding a pair of handcuffs.
“You've got to be kidding.”
“Afraid not. If you want to act like an escaped con, you're going to get treated like one,” he said, slipping the cuffs on my wrists.
I rolled my eyes as I followed him into the Lodge. “You know how weird this looks considering where we are, right?”
He turned a strange shade of red. “Stop trying to influence me. This was your own doing,” he said, giving me a light push into the foyer. Victor was nowhere in sight.
“He's mad,” I said under my breath.
“You think?” Ulric snorted. “Sit down, both of you.”
Hunter flopped into one of the overstuffed chairs and I took the one beside him. Ulric and Clarence took the couch across from us. Fortunately, Clarence wasn't paying attention to me. Unfortunately, he was paying way too much attention to Hunter and wasn't even trying to hide it. It was like Hunter was a book written in a language he didn't fully understand and was struggling intently to decrypt.
“Well,” said Ulric. “I trust your little joyride was for nothing.”
“It wasn't really a joyride,” I said. “Sebastian left me the keys to his truck.”
Ulric frowned. He obviously didn't think that was a sufficient defense. “Regardless, what you did tonight was incredibly irresponsible. You put not only yourself and Hunter in danger, but everyone else who had to come looking for you.”
“I thought we'd be back before anyone noticed,” I admitted. “I knew you'd just go out again anyway.”
The look on his face told me I wasn't wrong in that respect. “What I choose to do concerns myself and I alone. You are my child and the future varg modir of this pack. Everything you do reflects on Victor and myself.”
“He's what?” Clarence asked, breaking his focus on Hunter for a moment.
“I was going to announce this to the pack on the full moon, but yes, I've made my decision,” said Ulric. “Victor will be the next alpha of the pack and the marking process has already begun. By the time the next harvest moon rises, Remus will be his mate, vampire or not.”
A dozen questions flashed through Clarence's eyes, but he held his tongue in the presence of his alpha. If this hulking wolf showed more deference than I did, I decided that maybe I should follow his lead.
My heart should have soared at the news that Victor was going to be the next alpha and that I was to officially become his mate, but something was weighing it down. Of course I was happy for Victor. This was the best thing for him and for the pack, but I couldn't escape the feeling that something was missing.
“Ulric,” I said, breaking through the mental fog. “About the trip. We didn't find Arthur, but,” I paused, fishing for the ring in my pocket, “I did find this.” I held my palm out so he could see the ring.
Ulric's eyes widened as he snatched the ring from me, turning it in the light to examine its every crevice. “Where did you find this?”
“In Arthur's desk,” I said sadly.
“This is a hunter's ring,” said Ulric. He passed it back to Hunter. “Do you know which branch of the Family it belongs to?”
Hunter took the ring and examined it closely. “It's from the Burns line, definitely. Second-oldest after the Winters line.”
“Burns?” My stomach flipped. “That's the last name of the man I killed at the rest stop. That has to be a coincidence, right?” I asked, looking to Hunter.
He shook his head somberly. “Remember what I told you the other night, Remus. When it comes to hunters --”
“There are no coincidences,” I finished for him, collapsing back in the chair.
“I also found this,” said Hunter, unzipping his jacket to reveal the scarlet book. It really looked more like journal now that I was looking at it closely. He undid a bronze latch that was keeping the leather cover in place. There was no title that I could see, and the first few pages appeared blank save for a rather long handwritten dedication.
Hunter passed the book to Ulric and Clarence watched over his shoulder as he flipped through the pages. “This is a witch's grimoire,” Ulric remarked.
“Not a witch,” said Hunter. “William Winters fancied himself more of an alchemist. I guess that's how he justified sending all those other people to their deaths.”
“But I thought the hunters hated anything supernatural,” I said, confused. “Why would one of their forefathers have an entire book about magic?”
“That's the problem, the hunters hate moon magic. They think theirs comes from the sun, so it's not really magic to them, just using the gifts bestowed on them from their benevolent Father,” he muttered. “Anything else is a blasphemous counterfeit to them, deserving of nothing less than eternal punishment.”
I couldn't help but notice the way Clarence seemed to hang on Hunter's every word. “Can you use the book?” he asked warily. It was the first time I'd seen him speak directly to Hunter, and the smaller wolf startled a bit.
“Uh, yeah, I think I can. There were more in Arthur's room, but this one seems important,” he explained. “Notice the dedication.”
“Yes,” Ulric murmured. “That is interesting.”
“Can I see?” He handed it to me and I flipped through the first few blank pages before I found the scripted text. I recognized the handwriting immediately and my heart sank. If there was any lingering hope that this was all a horrible misunderstanding and Arthur wasn't intrinsically linked with the hunters, it was gone now.
“To: My Favorite Cousin in his 18th year,
You're finally a man now, dear boy. Fitting that this grimoire has been in our family since the 18th century, isn't it? My hope is that you'll find even more meaning in these pages, for the heart that beats within them is far more similar to yours than mine.
William was resistant to the call at our age and look how much he accomplished for the Family. If ever you doubt your Call, look to him and think of me.
Yours eternally,
'Frosty'”
I gave the book back to Hunter and felt like I was going to be sick. “It's Prentice. That's his handwriting, and Frosty is the name of the contact who kept sending cryptic texts about betraying someone when Arthur lent me his phone. He gave me the wrong one when I ran off to find Victor. I didn't think much of it then, but now...”
“I'm sorry, Remus,” Ulric said sincerely. “It seems likely that he sought out your friendship to gather information.”
“I was so stupid,” I murmured, raking my hands through my hair. “Looking back it's so fucking obvious. My roommate bailed the same night he coincidentally had a fight with his.” I laughed dryly. “There's that word again. All this time, Arthur and Prentice were connected. Even bringing me to the Lodge was planned. He probably knew you were my father before either of us did, and he used me to get in closer to you.”
“It seems likely,” Ulric admitted. “But it doesn't make you stupid. Hindsight is twenty-twenty because it's full of context. You had no idea this world even existed, to blame yourself for not see
ing treachery behind a simple offer of friendship is absurd.”
“Why are you comforting me?” I asked, looking up at him. “You should be gloating right now, you were right. I disobeyed you and Victor and put us all in danger just to protect someone who's been using me like an idiot from the very beginning.”
“A father warns his child not to touch a hot stove to keep him from pain, not so he can gloat when the child gets burned,” he murmured. “And in one sense, as furious as I am about what you did tonight, I'm proud of you. You didn't risk yourself to save a traitor, you risked yourself to save a friend. There's not a soul living within these walls who wouldn't have done the same thing.”
Clarence snorted. “I might not've been so harebrained about it, but he has a point. Cut yourself some slack, Drac.”
I had a feeling that was a rare compliment coming from Clarence and decided to cherish it since I might never get another one. “Thanks,” I said, brushing something wet off my cheek. It couldn't have been a tear. Vampires didn't cry, as I reminded myself for the hundredth time.
“Well, I'm gonna grab some coffee and try to see if I can make sense of the hunter's secret diary,” said Hunter, standing. “Mind if I use the study?”
“Come and go as you like,” said Ulric, offering him a key. “I doubt I'll be using it much anyway in the coming days. Do let me know if you find anything that might give us a lead, however trivial.”
“I will,” he promised. “Do you think you'll have a decision about the ritual soon?”
“Tomorrow evening, one way or another,” said Ulric. And he would. It might not be a decision I was happy with, but Ulric was nothing if not a man of his word.”
Hunter walked towards the stairs and Clarence rose to his feet suddenly like he was being jerked by some invisible string. “Mind if I join you?”
“For what?” Hunter asked, as confused as I was.
“The uh, coffee maker is hard to manage,” Clarence stammered. I'd never seen him so out of his element. He was usually so cool and confident and snarky, but now he was acting like a junior high boy with a crush.
