by Gaja J. Kos
She didn't need the special link of the bond to feel the tension oozing from Zarja's motionless body as she waited for Veles's reply.
“Yes.”
Rose was careful to keep Zarja in her line of sight, although her eyes remained focused on the god next to her. He was giving off silent breaths of that olive power, which gave him an unmistakable aura of godliness despite the image of him sitting so leisurely on the bloodstained carpet.
“A vetala is that demon you spoke of, right?” Tim asked.
The god nodded.
“Two things puzzle me... And they're linked to one another, so let me ask them both before replying.”
Another nod from Veles.
“First, you said these demons animate corpses; looking at it logically, it means that when we battled the werewolves, we were actually slaughtering...the slaughtered? How can you kill something that is already dead? And second, if the vetalas can come and go from the body, why did they wait for us to kill the flesh before separating from it? And more importantly, why did they even leave?” Tim paused, taking a deep breath, but held up his hand to let Veles know he wasn't quite finished.
“You see, this is where my thoughts keep going in circles. Vetalas animate the dead. Even if we ripped out someone's throat”—Tim inclined his head toward the dead werewolf on the carpet—“they should still be able to control the body. Short from dismembering them, any injury, even a seemingly mortal one, shouldn't affect them, since they technically aren't alive. Do I even make any sense?”
By the time Tim had finished, his voice was ragged and the annoyance of running in circles had imprinted on his face. He leaned back on the futon, catching his deeply-needed breath.
“You do make sense, even if the situation does not.” Veles's words were calm, but Rose could feel the fury blazing within him despite the shields he had put up to contain it. “I will need some time to think about it. This isn't normal vetala behavior. They are ancient, rare... As I have already said before, something has united them. It would be foolish to believe the change in pattern would end there.”
He stood and his tall figure filled the room with his powerful presence.
“I will transport you back to Ljubljana. You should take the body to Nathaniel, let him work on it from the scientific point of view while I search for answers within the immortal world. Someone is messing with ancient forces, and I believe we'll need both approaches if we wish to truly understand what's happening.”
Rose began to walk towards Zarja, who hadn't moved at all since Veles had shared the information about the werewolf vetalas. She would need someone to process the newly obtained knowledge with, someone to help her grasp that Libor truly was dead, even if his body still walked the earth.
She was halfway across the room when Veles's voice washed over her.
“Rosalind.”
She turned around to find he had extended his hand towards her. She glanced at Jürgen, catching his attention; discreetly, she flickered her gaze towards Zarja, careful not to let her thoughts pass through the bond. Jürgen nodded in acknowledgment. Despite any resentment they had carried towards Zarja from the many times Rose had to crash on the twins' couch when their relationship started to fall apart, they didn't let it interfere with offering help to a fellow pack member. Especially if Rose asked them to. Feeling better that someone would watch over the shaken werewolf, she took Veles's outstretched hand, walking over to stand by his side.
“There is a deserted alley behind the M.E.'s building. Transport us there if you can. We can bring in the body from the back door, and Nathaniel can begin his examination straight away,” Tim offered, murmurs of agreement from the pack backing his words. “Nathaniel can loan us some clothes, or we'll have someone deliver them to the office.”
Veles took a step forward to shake Tim's hand. “I hope we'll both have better news to share next time we meet. Give my regards to your brother. From what I've heard, he's remarkable at what he does.”
Tim nodded and returned to the pack, who had already encircled the body. Veles kissed Rose lightly on the forehead before stepping into the group of werewolves. The corners of his lips tugged in a warm smile, and Rose remained standing alone in the room without as much as a sound giving away their departure.
She stood staring at the empty space, seeing for the first time how Veles's preferred method of transportation looked up-close from the outside. She understood why he wanted to keep it hidden; it wasn't only practical, it carried the highest level of stealth. The teleportation was not merely silent; it actually didn't leave a single trace behind. Even the peculiar lingering scent of power that usually resided after it had been used was absent. As much as she stretched her senses, searching for even the minutest clue, there was nothing to indicate what had transpired.
Frowning at the undisturbed air, she turned to head back to the bedroom. She still hadn't cleaned and sheathed her knives, and although she had been fully committed to the conversation pertaining to the werewolf vetalas, she couldn't stop the small thought at the back of her brain from nagging at her about the need to fulfill her ritual. She had left her weapons unattended for long enough.
“Going to the bedroom without me, Rosalind?” Veles's alluring scent washed over her as he reappeared in the room behind her back, wrapping around her skin in a thick promise of caresses.
She turned around, and the view of the lean, dark-haired god sent an electric rush of heat through her body.
She lifted one eyebrow, a grin already stretching across her face. “Want to come and play with my knives?”
The werewolves filled the otherwise spacious lab, trying to keep out of the way as Nathaniel hovered over the body and at times darted over to the machines with freshly collected samples in his hands. The exhaustion had finally caught up with them, and after spending a few more waking hours in the office, which doubled as Nathaniel's private examination room, sleep became a too forceful presence to fight off. Huddled in the comfort of clothes, they made themselves as unobtrusive as they could and drifted away with the sound of Nathaniel's machines softly humming in the background.
Evelin had contacted Nadia upon their arrival, and the werewolf had brought a selection of sweatpants and T-shirts with her for them to change into. She lingered, observing the carcass with the care and consideration of a healer. Nathaniel invited her to do the initial check over of the corpse with him, and although she hadn't come with the intention to interfere with the M.E.'s work, she was grateful for the offer. They worked as a team, effortlessly keeping out of each other's way as if they had had years of practice. As they circled the body, the pack filled them in on what information they could share before they snuck outside the lab to change out of their robes.
Once they remained alone inside the office, Nadia growled at the idea of vetala demons while Nathaniel frowned in thought.
“I never would have determined the time of death as more than a few hours ago,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes focused on the deceased flesh as if he could read the explanation from the thick bloodstained fur.
Nadia came to stand by his side. “If the demon enters the body almost instantly as the soul leaves it, the flesh remains without any evidence of its passing.”
He stood in silence for a few minutes, processing Nadia's words. When he finally began to speak, his words took the form of a soft whisper, almost speaking more to himself than out loud. “I can't tell why, but it reminds me of the mark on our first victim. Only in that case, it was the flesh that decayed while the toxin remained untouched.”
His eyebrows pulled together in a frown, a thought suddenly crossing his mind. He went around the body, pulling down the large magnifying glass that was mounted over the examination table and traced it over different parts of the carcass, parting the fur with his gloved hand. He finally stopped when he reached the left hind leg and leaned closer. He brushed away the deep brown fur to reveal a puncture wound.
Nadia stepped over, peering at the expos
ed bit of flesh from the side, careful not to deconcentrate Nathaniel with her presence. The magnifying glass was brought all the way down to the wound, the puncture visible in detail. Nathaniel took a swab, brushing it thoroughly over the disturbed flesh. As he made his way to the other side of the room to run tests on the sample, he motioned Nadia to examine the wound herself.
“We found a similar puncture mark on all the bodies,” Nathaniel began as he returned, the machine already humming in the background. “We believe they used an injection to get the toxin into their system.”
Nadia remained staring through the magnifying glass at the single round mark that disturbed the flesh, angling her head slightly in both directions before releasing a long breath.
“Not an injection.” She turned to face Nathaniel. “A dart.”
Nathaniel hurried to her side, looking through the magnifying glass to see what the healer had noticed. There was nothing more distinct about the wound than there had been the last time he saw it. As far as he could tell, the puncture could have been made with any needle-like instrument.
“How can you tell?” He stared wide-eyed at Nadia.
“I have worked with packs living in more rural or even uninhabited areas. When you see as many dart wounds as I have, they become distinct in a way that doesn't rely on any particular markings.” The healer smiled at Nathaniel, stepping away from the examination table. “However, if you search for something that works more within your area of expertise, I can tell you that punctures from darts always tear the skin slightly more around the edges, because they carry the speed of something shot from a distance. Even if you'd plunge a needle with all your strength into the flesh, it still wouldn't leave exactly the same entry wound. I'm not certain if this is the same for all darts, but the ones used on supernatural beings can be identified through this trait.”
Nathaniel leaned over the looking glass once more before returning his full attention to the calm and almost surprisingly modest presence of Nadia. “Why did you encounter so many dart wounds?”
A shadow passed across the healer's face, but she didn't hesitate. “Werewolves who choose less urban grounds to live on are usually the ones poachers go after. They need a shapeshifted were in order to skin them and sell their fur; and there simply aren't that many of those running around Tivoli, or even Rašica, for that matter.”
“And if you want to keep the fur intact, you can't use shotguns...” Nathaniel spoke in a whisper, his hands balled into fists.
“No, but you can use poisonous darts.”
Nathaniel was left with no words to battle the anger within him. He had known about poachers, but those usually went after the White werewolves, since their endangered status made their furs more valuable than any other. However, he had been foolish to forget that the huntsmen filled their time and bank accounts with selling lesser skins as well. Nobody discriminated when it came to blood money, and poachers were known to sell their services even for a few regular skins of their brethren; they wouldn't make millions, but even an ordinary werewolf's fur was worth about a year of legally earned average pay.
The sound of someone opening the door interrupted his grim train of thought. He was glad to see Tim walk into the room, followed by the rest of the pack.
Nathaniel met his brother halfway, bumping his shoulder into his in a welcoming gesture. “You guys all ready?”
The pack had had to sneak down the hallway into the bathroom to wash away any remaining bits of the battle they had missed while staying at Veles's place before they changed into their new clothes. When Nathaniel saw that everybody was present, he locked the office door behind them, not wanting to explain why he had six people lounging in the lab in case the odd coworker walked in. He waited for the weres to find their own spot to settle down and rest before picking up the results from the swab test. With the piece of paper in hand, he returned to Nadia, who was standing idly by the examination table.
Nathaniel ran his gaze over the printed piece of paper, frowned, and leaned over the magnifying glass. He examined the wound again, blowing out several consecutive whiffs of air in the process. “Fuck, Rose was right.”
Nadia stepped closer, gently placing her hand on Nathaniel's shoulder. “What is it?”
There was something dark in the human's eyes as he turned to face her. “The toxin. It's different.”
Chapter 26
Rose stood by the window while Veles lounged in the king-size bed, the thin summer sheets covering only the bare minimum of his lightly tanned, exposed skin. He crossed his hands behind his back, which only made the perfectly toned muscles of his abdomen that much more appealing, and Rose had to fight the urge to climb back into bed with him. But they had taken as much time as they could to spend with one another and were unable to postpone figuring out what exactly was happening with the vetala demons any longer.
Veles stared at the ceiling while Rose turned to trace her gaze over the woods that extended outside the house. The god hadn't told her where they were, and she didn't feel like interrupting his thinking with such a trivial question now. Besides, she didn't need to know the exact geographical placement to know how to run through the woods.
She walked over to the bed, picking up her clothes along the way. Veles had a way of scattering them in various locations when he didn't simply burn them off. She pulled up her pants and stalked around the bedpost to sit by the god.
She ran her hand through the perfectly black strands of his hair, tracing her fingers down his cheek. “I'll go outside for a run. The woods will help me think.”
Veles pulled her down into a kiss, the light wetness of his lips sending a shiver through her senses. She pressed her bare breasts against his chest, returning the favor. The god smiled at her when she finally broke the contact, green embers softly dancing in his eyes.
“Maybe I'll join you later.” His voice doubled his smile. “I know a few good trunks I'd like to mount you against.”
She let out a husky laugh, running her fingers down his abdomen all the way to the edge of the sheet. “Deal.”
Rose had known the woods were vast. She had seen as much from the bedroom window, yet she was surprised there wasn't a single scent of civilization embedded in the winds that rustled between the trees. She left her shoes at the beginning of the woods; she wanted to feel the grass under her feet as she ran, the cool touch of earth hinting at the approaching fall. Opening her werewolf senses to her surroundings, she didn't need to half shift in order to navigate the wildly grown woods.
The Black werewolves had a human mind at all times, but that didn't mean they couldn't tap into their animal instincts. They were encoded in their very being, and even if they never prevailed, they were a constant presence, perfectly entwined with the more rational side of their brains. Rose relied on those instincts as she ran through the woods at a quick pace, weaving through the branches and exposed roots, her movements smooth.
She let her thoughts run freely; whenever she came to a stalemate, she needed to push the problem into the background. Dwelling on issues inevitably led to failure. It had taken her a few years to master the process of clearing her mind and allowing her subconscious to work on the problem instead of her. Tapping into her wolf instincts was the most certain way to wipe her mind of the burden that human thoughts represented. In such a mode, her brain continued to work as a regular human's would; however, it was somewhat more similar to one in a state of meditation than anything else.
She decided to run a circular trail around Veles's house, keeping a fair distance from it to submerge herself in the feeling of absolute nature, yet not wanting to wander too far off. It wasn't out of fear of losing her compass; she merely wanted to be able to get back to Veles as soon as possible in case her mind figured something out during her run.
She had managed to cover a little more than half of the intended circle when her wolf instincts made her growl on the inside. Coming to a stop in the shade of thick trees, she blew out an annoyed breath.
<
br /> “Well, this isn't right.”
The brown and green colors of the woods in front of her seemed to spill into one another in a crisscross of wiggling streaks. She turned around, trailing her gaze over the greenery, but the streaks followed her eyes, siphoning the nearby colors into moving cylinder shapes. Trying to see past the distortion, she made her way back towards the house. Her animalistic instincts kept her from tripping over the roots, but they couldn't counteract the dizziness. The edges of the wiggling cylinders began to shimmer with the brightness of liquid diamonds, and she felt something she hadn't encountered in more than a decade. Panic.
Her growl echoed through the woods, erasing the unpleasant emotion within her. More than anything, she needed to stay calm; it was the only way she could get herself back to the residence. Even though she didn't doubt in Veles's ability to find her if she collapsed somewhere in the middle of the woods, she hated the thought of lying helpless and exposed in unknown territory. Fighting to keep herself steady, she began to run at a slow pace towards the house, but the impaired vision made it an almost impossible battle to fight.
Cursing the waste of a new outfit, she nonetheless launched her body forward, feeling the mechanism of her bone structure shift. The pitch-black fur spiked out of her skin in a wave before she landed on all fours, feeling the cool soil under her paws. She snapped her teeth and broke into a run; the additional two legs improved her balance, but she knew without a doubt that it was only a matter of time before the combination of dizziness and lost sight would bring her to the ground.
The liquefied diamonds had already spilled across two-thirds of her vision when she managed to glimpse the house behind the thick trees. Pushing forward with her last remaining strength, she crossed what was left of the distance with wolfish speed, not caring any longer if she lost control of her body. Still, she managed to reach the house without stumbling and rammed her massive wolf body into the door, popping it off the hinges.
