by Petra Landon
“Be that as it may, no Chosen, including the Wyrs, is ignorant of the most notorious of the Mages Roman calls the Deadlies” Maartje pronounced. “The consequences of his actions live on.”
Nandini remained silent. An Ancient, she was keenly aware of what a thorny issue this had once been. It had nearly torn apart the First Ones before better sense prevailed.
Roman sighed. “We did not cover ourselves with glory on that business” he acknowledged.
“Vampires” Jason murmured. They had been given a violent birth, followed by an even bloodier baptism by fire.
Maartje nodded, an acknowledgement that the Guardian had guessed the Mage correctly.
“You mean the Ancient who created the leeches?” Hawk, following the conversation intently, seemed to finally get it.
“It was a Blood Mage who created the first Vampires, Hawk” Nandini explained. “Some say he was the most powerful Blood Mage ever born. Though many First Ones disagreed with that assessment and his actions.”
The Shifters ignored the rest of her explanation to pick on what intrigued them the most.
“Blood Mage?” Luis inquired before Hawk could.
Tasia, more than familiar with different types of First Ones magic, Mages and the Deadlies, gave herself a stern reminder to not reveal her knowledge of any of it. What bad luck, she reflected in dismay. First, the Blutsaugers had wormed their way into the investigation. Now, it looked like a Mage, and no ordinary one at that, was involved too. Add in the inexorable tug of her heartstrings towards a man completely off bounds to her and a strong-willed, tenacious Alpha determined to not allow her to deny the attraction, and she had a perfect storm on her hands.
What a tangled web I find myself caught in. Must tread lightly and look out for the spider!
“Blood Mages are First Ones with the ability to manipulate a Chosen’s blood” Roman explained. “Since our blood is redolent with magic, you may imagine the kind of power a Blood Mage wields.”
Hawk looked stunned. “A Mage created the leeches by playing with Magick blood?” Like all Magicks, Hawk was aware that the Vampires, unlike other Chosen, were not descended from the Forebearers — the first Chosen to walk the earth. Instead, they’d been artificially created some thousand years ago. This was why many Chosen regarded the Clan as an abomination that should have been nipped in the bud at birth. But, like most Wyrs, Hawk was not cognizant about the details of how the Vampires had been birthed and allowed to thrive.
“By altering the blood of Chosen” Roman confirmed. “Seven of the original Vampires created by ElBlodMagin survived. They form the genesis of what the Clan calls their Pure Blood Families today — descendants of the first Blutsaugers.”
“Incidentally, Hawk, if I’m not mistaken, Blood Mages also classify as Elementals.” The only Guardian amongst them offered the explanation.
“They do, Jason” Nandini backed him up. “Blood is the most powerful element on earth for a Chosen — it gives us our magic and holds the secret to our powers. Thus, for the First Ones, Blood Mages fall under the umbrella of Elementals.”
Raoul, silently mulling over Roman’s words while the conversation drifted around him, cut to the chase. “I want a look at the site of the explosion, Durovic. Can your Setik connections swing it?”
Roman looked surprised. This was not an avenue he’d been pursuing. “Absolutely! The team or just you?”
“The team.” Raoul intended to let the witchling loose at the site. If there was any magic residue left behind, she would find it. Then, they’d have a better shot at picking up the Archmage’s trail. But it would look a damn sight less suspicious if he took the entire team along for the ride.
“I’ll set it up, Merceau” Roman assured him. “They’re not busy this time of year and will accommodate us easily.”
He paused as a thought struck him. “If nothing else, I can be more persuasive in person. I’ll get us access to the guest list.”
The Alpha cast a swift glance around the room, his remarks pointed. “Make sure passports are current. As soon as Durovic gives the word, we take off for Belize.”
The gold eyes swept over Tasia who understood what he wanted from her. Her magic senses were to be deployed again.
Roman turned to Sienna, reminded of her request. “I haven’t forgotten what you asked me. I’m slated to meet someone who was at The Games. I’ll ask for a physical description of the girl with the Lombardis.”
“Thank you, Roman.”
Taking advantage of the lull, Sienna glanced around the Pack Room.
“I hope to see everyone at Duncan’s to meet Guardian Bergdahl” she remarked, a determined glint in her eyes. She’d made sure to extend the invitation to everyone on the team.
“We’ll be on our best behavior, Sienna” Elisabetta drawled, noticeably amused by the subtle warning.
“I’m counting on it, Elisabetta” the Wizard reiterated bluntly. “Trev’s doing me a favor and I want him to see my friends for what they are, not what the GCW brands them to be.”
Jason muted his grin, as the female Were-Alpha blinked at Sienna’s candor.
Roman ignored the byplay, to address the Alpha. “Nandini and I have put together every scrap of evidence we have. We’re ready.”
“I have a suggestion, Roman” Jason interjected. “Before we attempt to convince any influential Ancients about Lady Bethesda, pitch to someone you know. Fine-tune the presentation.”
“Good point” the Alpha agreed without hesitation. “We’ll only get one shot at this. Let’s make sure we get it right.”
“Who should we pitch to?” Nandini asked. “First on our list were SivoTar and TorElnor.”
“You have to convince TorElnor?” Maartje looked astonished. She’d assumed that Roman’s involvement in the investigation and the assault on him by the leech guards would drive the Setik leader to oppose Lady Bethesda.
“TorElnor is all for punishing the Vampires for Portland, but there’s no confirmation that Lady Bethesda was behind the assault on me” Roman responded. “Or that she’s even alive. Until he believes she threatens the Chosen, he will not involve his First Ones in the cause.”
“We’ll face the same reluctance from the other Ancients, Maartje” Raoul asserted. “It won’t be easy to sway them. But we need the First Ones to oppose her, or it’ll be a harder road to hoe.”
“Perhaps, an Ancient closer to home” Duncan suggested to the Alpha.
“DiZeyla?” Roman looked skeptical. She had little influence over any First Ones, except the Ancients in San Francisco.
“She might not possess the influence of TorElnor or SivoTar, Durovic” Raoul countered. “But she’s well-respected, knowledgeable and shrewd about Ancient matters. She could give us pointers to sway the more influential leaders.”
His glance encompassed both Roman and Nandini. “Include David Hamilton in the briefing. I promised him a recounting when the time was right. It is time.”
“You have a visitor” the receptionist explained. “From the Northern California Consortium.”
Sara’s brows drew together. The Consortium was a front — an umbrella corporation for Pack businesses. Why would the Pack send a Shifter to her office, she wondered? The Pack was always careful to keep its distance when a Shifter’s world intersected with that of the Si’ffa. Her job definitely fell under Si’ffa purview.
“I’ll be right down” she said into the phone.
In the cramped lobby downstairs, Sara was astounded to find Luis Beltran waiting for her. His unlikely presence had her momentarily forget her issues with the Were-Alpha.
“Is it Hawk?” she asked anxiously, her heart in her eyes.
“No, no. Nothing like that, Sara” Luis hastened to assure her. “I’d like a few minutes of your time, without drawing the Pack’s attention.
Sara stilled, suspicion rising in her. “You want to talk to me?” she verified, not hiding her skepticism.
“I’d appreciate it very much” he said gravely.
“Twenty minutes. Just hear me out, please.”
He waited patiently while Sara struggled with the decision. Eventually, she acquiesced to the request. If Luis Beltran desired a conversation with her, then Sara was determined to get some answers from him. Watching Tasia navigate the Pack had reminded her that if she wanted things to change, she must fight for them. She could remember the early years when she’d been grateful just to be alive. There had been an innate sense of obligation to the Pack for giving Hawk and her a chance by accepting them into the fold. It wasn’t until much later that she’d learned the true story. It wasn’t the Pack they owed a debt to. It was the Alpha. The newly triumphant Alpha Protector had stared down the Shifters, to invite the Manotti twins into his Pack. Barring Duncan, the Were-Alphas had all refused to accept Hawk and her. Yet, the sense of obligation from the early years had shaped her interactions with the Pack to a great extent. She’d tried to get along with her packmates. In the early years, she’d mingled almost exclusively with her were-pack, while she focused on mastering how to shift and control her beast, and the myriad other skills adult Wyrs must learn. When she had expanded her circle to the larger Pack, it had been a colossal shock. By the time Sara could fathom what a Pack entailed, it had been too late for her. She was considered weak in her packmates’ eyes and for some Shifters, that had been enough to target her. But Sara understood that no matter how much she wished otherwise, one thing would never change. A Wyr must live with a Pack. Perhaps, it was time to stand up and demand some changes, starting with Were-Alpha Beltran and his games.
It was a blustery day in San Francisco, with rain pelting down in sheets. They dashed into a cafe, nearly deserted except for a few customers. To keep up appearances, they ordered coffees, before choosing a corner table, away from the other customers. Sara studied the Were-Alpha while she waited for him to open proceedings. Luis was a sober man, a Shifter who tended to gravitate towards the company of Duncan and Atsá, not Simeonov or Elisabetta. That was why his actions had confused her. Today, he looked even graver than usual.
“I’d like to tell you a story, Sara, about a Shifter born in the Mexican province of Jalisco” he began. “The son of a local Were-Alpha, he was blessed with a relatively happy childhood. Until, at seventeen, the unthinkable happened. A Shifter challenged his father for the were-pack. Suddenly, without any warning, his strong and infallible father was no more. Sorrow engulfed him, until he realized that the threat to him was graver than he’d suspected. His father’s friend gave him the unpalatable truth. The new Were-Alpha did not want him. He must join another were-pack and leave everything familiar behind, to build a new life somewhere else. Friends of his father rallied together and before he knew it, arrangements had been made. A were-pack near San Francisco had agreed to accept him. Thus, still grieving his father, the young Shifter found himself supplanted; banished to a strange city in a foreign country. He did not speak the language, knew no one and had no prior ties to his new were-pack mates.”
Sara, who remembered her early isolation and confusion with the Pack, understood him only too well. Unlike most Shifters, Hawk and she had been brought up by their human relatives. But when adolescence had hit, they’d found themselves in need of a Pack. By Faoladh’s dictum, adult Shifters without a Pack were condemned to death. But at least, she had not been alone — she’d always had Hawk with her.
The Were-Alpha continued his tale. “It was a lonely existence, but the young Shifter persevered for he had nowhere else to go. About a year later, everything changed. He tagged along to an event that drew Shifters from other were-packs in the area. And met her. She was a year older to him, the daughter of an influential and respected local Were-Alpha. But she was unlike any Wyr he knew. That evening, he watched from afar as she flitted between groups, effortlessly charming, her radiant smile never slipping. He believed that his fascination with her had gone unnoticed, but towards the end of the evening, she found him in his corner. And he discovered something about her. She was like a light that drew everyone in her orbit towards her. But she was also kind and patient, willing to listen and draw out a young Shifter who didn’t fit in and who still grieved for the life he’d been forced to abandon. There followed long conversations, walks, outings and hikes. Gradually, she drew him out of his shell. The young Shifter seemed to blossom and engage with his were-pack, where he’d cared little before to make the effort. They talked about their dreams and shared their hopes and ambitions with each other. He was intrigued and endlessly fascinated by her and considered her his best friend. She was a powerful Shifter and it was widely believed that that one day, she’d be a Were-Alpha to be reckoned with. But she had other dreams. She wanted to study and go to college — Shifters consider such matters as Si’ffa pastimes. He knew that she’d been working to persuade her father for years — a father who thought the world of his brilliant and radiant daughter.”
Luis’ eyes had a faraway look, as if he’d forgotten who he talked to. Sara found herself unable to look away, even as he recounted the tale in a clinical voice that could not hide the profound emotion under the prosaic story-telling.
“A year later, she finally won her father over. She was off to a college on the East Coast, preferring to go where her were-pack would find it hard to keep tabs on her. She told her friend excitedly that it was the start of a new adventure. The boy, on the verge of manhood, knew he would miss her. It would be like cutting of a limb to sacrifice it. But he loved her and wanted his friend to see her dreams to fruition. She made him promise to write to her and he did. In the end, it would be ten years before she came home. But all the while, they wrote to each other, sharing their triumphs and commiserating their failures. She visited her father every six months and they’d spend all her free time together. And it would be like they had never been apart. But the boy was now a man, a strong Shifter quickly climbing the totem pole of his were-pack, even as he waited for her to return to him. Then, a few years later, a newly-arrived European Shifter challenged his Were-Alpha and won. By now, high up in the command chain of his were-pack, he had to work closely with the new Were-Alpha. He grew to respect and like the Shifter, only a handful of years older to him. Soon, a friendship flourished. The man was now content with his lot in life, though he continued to hanker for his best friend. A year later, he received the news he’d been waiting for. She was coming home. He was over the moon. To him, it felt like he’d been waiting for her his entire adult life. He couldn’t wait to tell her how he felt. Once in San Francisco, she communicated excitedly that she too had important news to share. They met at one of their old haunts, the man with his heart full. But the news was bittersweet for him. She was back for good but she had met someone — it was this man who’d been the impetus for her to come home. Before he could recover from the jolt, she dropped another bombshell. The only reason she’d kept this a surprise from him was because she was sure that he’d approve of her choice. The woman he’d loved, since he was a teenager, was in love with his Were-Alpha and friend.”
Luis paused his rendition to contemplate Sara, who looked confused, even as a kernel of what he was trying to tell her seemed to seep through to her.
“Her name was Aiyana and she was my best friend, Sara” the Were-Alpha said softly. “The man she loved was also a good friend — Stefano Manotti.”
Sara gaped at him. “You were in love with my mother” she stuttered. Her father had never talked about his life before them — the one with a were-pack. Hawk and her time with their father had revolved around the Si’ffa. Until a year before his passing, the twins had been unaware of their heritage and oblivious to the Chosen.
She shook her head, trying to come to terms with it. “Did Dad know?”
“If he did, he never let on about it.”
Luis sipped his coffee silently, while a reeling Sara grappled with the revelation. It was a lot to take in.
When she finally broke her silence, it was to ask him the question that puzzled her the most. “Why are you telling me
this?”
“Because it has been brought to my attention that you’re questioning my motives in smoothing your way” he said candidly. “My apologies if I made you uncomfortable, Sara. After Aiyana was gone, Stefano isolated himself from the Wyrs. His extended family helped him to care for his children and he had to be careful to keep his two worlds from intersecting. Si’ffa could never know about the Chosen — it would break the Supreme Edict. Eventually, Faoladh folded the were-packs into a larger Pack. But Stefano was gone by then. When his children eventually petitioned to join the Pack, I had no say in it because my Were-Alpha, Jerome Carter, wanted nothing to do with Stefano’s twins. I believed that Atsá would set aside old animosities and do something about it. In the end, the Alpha accepted you into the Pack and Duncan became your Were-Alpha. I could not have chosen a better man to guide Hawk and you, as a Wyr and otherwise. So, I kept my distance from you both. There was little point in rehashing old history, especially since it appeared to me that Hawk and you had landed on your feet. It was only when Tasia joined us that I realized you were struggling to fit in. That while Hawk had found his place, you were discontent and bewildered. In a way, your situation reminded me of my early days in San Francisco. I wondered if perhaps, your struggle to fit in had been right under my nose, but that I’d chosen to ignore it before. In any case, I did not intend to ignore the situation any longer. So, I did what little I could to smooth things for you.”
Sara blinked, caught by the naked emotion in Luis Beltran’s eyes.
His lips twisted wryly. “In my clumsy way, I was merely attempting to assist Aiyana’s daughter, Sara.”
Nine weeks ago, deep in the Belizean Rainforest
