I could smell blood before we entered the apartment building, a long
crimson trail coming from the open elevator; a few cops and several
people in the sort of baggy and padded clothes I’d come to
associate with The Lady’s private security gathered around. The
former wearing their uniforms, marking off areas with tape, one man
walking around with a box collecting body cameras and cell phones.
The Lady’s men gathered around with assault rifles and no less than
all five men on walkie talkies or phones barking orders and receiving
information.
One of them stopping only as Arthur and I were halfway down the hall,
an older looking man with more white hairs than not barking out, “the
Lady’s girl’s here! Tell them to get the flowers and chocolate
ready up top!”
Another man from the back immediately interrupting whoever was
speaking to him to deliver the message, the brief flash of changing
orders enough for me to try and focus on the scene in front of me.
Too many voices, but not fighting to speak over each other, too many
smells, but at least easily divided into categories. Too much
aftershave, shine on boots, silver on the air, someone was wearing
shitty acidic cologne, gun oil, tobacco…
I forced myself past those smells, a headache already threatening to
come on while I stepped closer to the elevator.
Blood, plenty of it, a dusting of silver still hanging on the air,
gunpowder, the scents of old blood and guts as well as old foliage
and dirt. Purist scents, the sight of the bodies inside enough to
confirm the fact for me.
Two corpses, each already in a body bag I carefully opened while
making sure none of the cops present were staring. Only unzipped
enough to get a glimpse at the person inside, get a good look at
their face and how big they were before I quickly closed it once
more.
As much as most of the cops here probably had suspicions about
what The Lady was, or at the very least that something supernatural
was going on in the city, it was better to avoid giving them an
undeniable look at it. For
now most of them could brush it off as a silly idea or rumor, assume
it was just a rumor to hide organized crime, never get a full picture
of anything. Maybe one of them would write a thread on some forum in
a few years, or start going on conspiracy theory podcasts, talk about
the rumors or one or two weird events, but I could control
what information they had when
they did.
The corpses mostly human with the first stretching of bones and
growth of fur still visible on them. Too far along in the process to
really tell anything about them beyond hair color and a rough guess
they were both adults, a small blessing for fighting Purists. Bullet
holes throughout the body, only one hole in the back of the elevator,
tight grouping in failure drill, probably Red.
The fact I didn’t recognize any of them another blessing as much as
it made sure I didn’t feel like I understood anything more about
what happened.
A quick glance back to confirm none of the cops were looking at me,
most looking like they were deliberately keeping their gaze focused
anywhere else, and I ran a finger through the blood pooled in the
elevator and licked it quickly. A strong mingling of tastes on my
tongue, three flavors mixed together and blending into one, and not
one with a taste close enough to neither Hunter nor I to worry it was
Marty’s.
A brief smile crossing my lips before my worry went elsewhere and I
asked, “Percy, did he-”
“Hospital, five minutes before you arrived, stable condition when
he left,” the same man from earlier spoke up, frowning as he looked
over the bodies and continued his report, “seven subjects
attacked,” the number making me look at the man in shock as he
confirmed, “seven at the start. Three were taken out by Percy, one
more when that teen upstairs showed up leading to the last three
retreating. Two were taken out before the door could close, last one
was injured but managed to escape. We have a patrol going on several
blocks now, though the fact we haven’t found her likely means she
was stable.”
I shook my head, Arthur furrowing his brow as I started towards the
elevator, stopping only briefly to clean my boots on a pad laid out.
Neither of us speaking until we were well on the stairs, the door
slammed shut behind us, and he said, “seven Purists, that’s a lot
for one attack.”
“In the city, attacking several floors up on an apartment building,
place where a former Purist is staying, it’s not exactly a riddle,”
I near snapped at my uncle, taking two steps at a time as we made our
way up, “fucking… why fucking attack here? How the fuck did they
even find me? I left a couple years ago now, if they were going to…”
“Get upstairs, talk later!” Arthur called up, sounding more than
a little out of breath as he lagged a floor behind me. The man at
least not complaining as I left him behind, pressing through the door
leading to our floor.
My feet sliding from under me, body falling back with a painful crack
as a new burst of pain rang
through me. Body scrambling to rise up, sliding and tripping on a
layering of blood until I felt someone help me to my feet. The smell
of blood an overpowering metallic cloud in the air that probably
would have made me hungry in any other circumstance.
The hallway before me lined with body bags, probably a dozen of them
neatly lined in two rows. Each with a small plastic sleeve where a
driver’s license had been slotted, the sight nearly making me
freeze before sense got the better of me. My steps carefully taken
between each until I reached the open door to Gevaudan’s apartment,
only stopped there by one of The Lady’s men stepping out with a
raised hand.
The wolf having none of it, a growl escaping my throat as I grabbed
the arm and twisted1 it behind his back, ignoring the pop I created
as I slammed him into the door and announced, “I’m seeing my
son.”
The man biting his lip hard enough it bled under his teeth while I
let him drop to the ground. Barely three more steps in the room
before I spotted Red walking towards me, arms folded over her chest
even as she said, “he was going to tell you be quiet, we just got
Marty calmed down. You should also probably change before you see
him, I just got done getting most the blood here under towels.”
Every part of me freezing up at the realization, guilt rising in my
chest as I turned to the man and near whispered, “sorry.”
The man taking a moment to answer, letting Arthur pop his shoulder
back into place with a gasping whine before he announced, “no
problem! Not the worst I’ve had, ma’am.”
I nodded, eye closed as I tried not to focus too badly on what I’d
done while I realized Red was right. My clothes were covered in
blood, some in my hair probably, and Marty had just gone through more
than most mortals did. Even Red having already changed, wearing one
of my plain black t-shirts and one the pairs of sweatpants I’d
grabbed the other day with her hair pulled back with one of my
scrunchies.
A growing tension in every ounce of my body barely held back by the
need to do what I could. A sigh escaping me as I told Red, “grab me
a change of clothes, I’ll take a look at the bodies and see what I
can do. Anything I should know?”
“The Lady’s here,” the words already sending a chill down my
spine, “not too happy with the situation, but more mad at the
Purists than you. She was talking with Gevaudan, I trust her to
behave, alright?”
I nodded, the urge to throw up tearing me apart even as I felt a hand
gently rest on my shoulder and Arthur told me, “I’ll go make sure
they’re okay. Seven Purists is… it’s a lot and, well…”
“I’ll make sure I don’t recognize any of them, you…”
I didn’t need to finish the request before Arthur started towards
the bedroom door; getting a quick once over from Red and cleaning his
shoes off once more. The man careful to open the door and slide
through without giving too much of a view from the outside as he
announced, “hey, mind if I come in? I’m um… well, nice to meet
you two, know The Lady…” the door closing before I could hear him
explain more.
What fear remained in my chest forced down while I took my first good
look around the room and took in the scene. Four bodies, three in
body bags and the last too big to fit into a normal one set up under
a tarp. The floor covered in every towel in the apartment, the open
trash can stuffed full of paper towels and toilet paper.
My feet heavy as I started to move to the body under the tarp,
throwing it off to reveal a Purist in their hybrid form. Blood on its
claws and fangs, and several stab wounds to its chest and neck
marking its death. The first body bag containing one with a bullet
hole in his head, a few stab wounds to a mostly transformed stomach,
a melted and twisted silver knife on the ground nearby next to an
empty 2 liter. The second body similar, mostly transformed though the
death had been fast — a quick slash across the throat, a few stab
marks on the arm and hand where she’d attempted to stop his attack.
The fact she was a teenager making me stop for a moment, the fat not
yet taken from her cheeks by years in the Purists, her hair still
halfway maintained, barely even dirt under her fingernails. A swirl
of emotions building in me at the sight as I stared her down, knowing
exactly what she’d gone through and just hoping Percy hadn’t
particularly realized her age when he’d fought her. Foggy dead eyes
halfway between wolf and human staring at me with cold judgment while
I sealed the bag once more.
The third bag barely opened a few inches before I froze, a mess of
brown hair peeking out through the light, a familiar tone and texture
I’d felt a hundred times. Bile rising in my throat, hands shaking
as I slowly peeled the bag open and peered down at the man inside.
A werewolf only a couple years older than me, almost three, his brown
hair messily cut around the shoulders, a stubbled chin covered in
blood. His eyes wide, partially transformed, one sliced halfway shut
with a deep mark across the face, another gouge taking part of his
nose, his neck, marks cutting through the flannel shirt he wore with
one deep mark finding itself between his ribs.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
The mess of stab wounds rendering him an abstract canvas of dark red
and purple blood, though not enough hidden by wounds and blood to not
tell who he was in a moment. My eye tracing the ground, a leather
jacket I’d given him years ago discarded on the floor, the cowboy
hat he loved wearing fallen behind the kitchen counter.
His scent the same as it’d always been buried under the blood that
tried to hide him.
My body shaking as I stared the man down, a choking noise escaping
me, my vision blurring in and out as I fell back staring down at his
twisted face. The world feeling like it was spinning until I saw Red
crouch in front of me once more, tugging the body bag shut as she
sighed and whispered, “take it you know this guy at least?”
I nodded, my mouth too dry to speak even as I forced myself to
whisper back, “Hunter, he was… he was my husband, he’s…”
“Fuck,” the woman muttered, a look of recognition crossing her as
she looked down at the corpse, “that’s… we should hold off
telling Gevaudan for now, figure out what happened.d I… I don’t
have Chaser’s number but I know Misha and can-
“I’ll tell them,” I interrupted, the words too harsh for what
she was trying to offer, “I… I can tell them. Misha deserves to
know, but Chaser… we were family, she should hear it from me.”
The words came out like a dream, my hands fumbling for the my purse
and pulling out a marker from it. A small mark made on the plastic as
I told her, “can you um… tell them we need-”
“I’ll have the ashes sent to the Covenant.”
I nodded, my body moving without thought as I stumbled towards the
bathroom, one foot in front of the other. My head swirling, something
building in my throat, and-
I fell in front of the toilet a half second before the first torrent
of vomit spilled from me, my pony tail barely pulled back in time as
I held myself up with one wobbling arm. Red coming by to grab my hair
in time for the second and third waves to spill forth into the bowl
while I fell helplessly against it. Only as my quickly healing throat
burned and lungs gasped for air I realized I was sobbing, panting,
gasping for breath as tears streamed down my face.
My voice weak, maybe too loud as I said, “I just fucking saw him
the other day, what happened? This isn’t right, he wouldn’t do
this, he wouldn’t-”
“Mary,” Red interrupted, a hand squeezing my shoulder. My words
cut off, but my breath still unsteady, tears flowing, “if you don’t
want Gevaudan knowing yet, you’re going to need to get yourself
together. I can handle this if you need, say there was another
emergency or something, but you need to get yourself together.”
I shook my head, another wave of bile forced back as I stumbled back
to my feet, a nervous hiccup escaping me as I told her, “Marty’s
in there, and I don’t know what happened. I just… give me a
minute, I’m going to rinse off and get out of these clothes, can
you just-”
“I’ll get you something to wear,” Red offered me, and I nodded
as I quickly stripped off my clothes and tried to not think too hard
on the body in the next room.
I’d just seen Hunter a couple days before, he’d… we hadn’t
talked much, but we’d seen each other. I hadn’t even told
him Marty was in town, but even if he knew why fucking show up with
Purists? We’d agreed to have him raised human, we’d never
regretted that, there wasn’t even any guarantee that Marty was
going to be a werewolf.
We hadn’t told him he was in town, but if he did know would he
think we were hiding him? Maybe it was something to get a little
annoyed about, but this many werewolves, this violent an attack, what
was he trying to show by doing this?
What did he want with our son.
A fresh wave of bile threatening to rise in my throat as I cranked
the water hot as it could go, watched blood trickle down my body into
the drain below. My head half-held under the water, my knees
threatening to give out under me, nothing feeling real even as I
wringed out my hair and heard Red enter the room once more.
No towel to dry off I used a plain black shirt Red gave me, quickly
changing into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that I could instantly
tell wasn’t mine. The fabric worn a little thin, baggier than I
tended to buy, a couple holes worn through on it and for some band I
didn’t recognize called Weezer. One of Misha’s if I had to guess,
and the fact I was wearing it feeling so much more wrong knowing
Hunter was dead in the next room.
Misha hadn’t cared a lot about his brother, he was in the Purists,
but it was still his brother. I was staying in Misha’s room,
wearing his fucking shirt, and he didn’t even know his fucking
brother was dead. My best friend had killed his brother, and he
didn’t even know that it’d happened.
Marty’s dad was dead, and I was about to have to look him in the
eyes and act like that wasn’t true.
Another wave of vomit pushed back as I tried to focus on anything
else, staring Red down as she led me back to Gevaudan’s room. My
eye drifting over her, vaguely noticing how off her clothes looked;
the gray sweatpants I bought looking baggier with a red tint, her
black t-shirt turn a light gray and the sleeves to her elbow, the
pink scrunchy red and more a ribbon in her hair.
The detail interesting enough to keep my attention until we were
stood outside the door and she asked, “are you sure you’re good?”
I nodded, another look from her and I forced myself to answer, “I
can do it.”
Red hummed, her look almost sad, and she finally admitted, “well,
can’t be blamed for being emotional after all this,” as she
gestured for me to open the door.
My mind feeling like it was working in slide shows as I reached for
the door knob, carefully slid in, closed the door behind me, took in
the scene before me.
Gevaudan’s room larger than the one I’d stayed in; room for a
twin bed, desk, closet, dresser, and book shelf with plenty of room
left to walk around with random mess pressed into the walls. Gevaudan
sat on the bed, The Lady at the desk chair with her hands folded in
her lap in surprisingly normal jeans and a shirt, and Marty and
Arthur on the ground across from each other playing with rubber
dinosaur toys.
A large basket sat on the ground nearby filled with pastries, and
Marty at least with a half-eaten one on a napkin next to him.
The final detail holding my attention like if I thought of anything
else I’d start crying again until Marty’s voice cut through the
haze with a quiet, “is mommy okay?”
A smile forced to my lips in an instant, a strength I didn’t know I
could force into my voice there as I admitted, “just a scary night,
Marty.” My feet carrying me to sit on the ground next to him, a
quick smell of the air finding no blood radiating from him, no wounds
visible on his body, “are you okay? I heard… I head you had a
scary night?”
Marty hummed, setting down his t-rex as he admitted, “auntie said
some the neighbors got really mean, and Uncle Percy had to bring them
home. Is he okay?”
I nodded, not sure of the answer myself as I probably lied, “he’s
going to be okay, I’m seeing him right after this. I see you and
Arthur are getting along, playing dinosaurs?”
Marty perked up a little at that, nodding excitedly as he started,
“he said his favorite are velociraptors, but I think he means Dei-
Deino-” the boy pausing, Arthur giving him an encouraging nod as he
struggled to pronounce, “Deinonychus. They’re the big ones from
the movies.”
Arthur laughed at that, shaking his head as he admitted, “well, I
was a Crichton fan, can’t be blamed for getting a little wrong.”
His smile surprisingly warm as he admitted, “I still have that book
lying around at home. If I catch you before you head home I’ll make
it a Christmas present.”
Gevaudan coming from a still scared stare to laugh a little and scold
him, “he’s four years old, I think that’s a bit heavy reading
for him.”
“Every book’s a kids book if they can read it, and you gotta give
them a challenge they can work towards,” Arthur said, nodding to me
as he added on, “her mother spent twice a year from third grade to
dropping out of school forcing her way through Carmilla, and I think
she hardly understood it those first half dozen reads.”
The admittance getting a string of emotions from those present,
Gevaudan looking confused between us, Marty looking in awe at the
man, and The Lady sounding almost genuinely annoyed as she muttered,
“Carmilla, of course that trash…”
The time seeming right as any to try changing to subject, not focus
on the body in the next room as I forced myself to ask, “is
everything alright, ma’am? I um… I know there was a lot that
happened, but I wasn’t expecting to see you. I was bringing my
uncle some dinner, said I would since he couldn’t make my dinner
today.”
The Lady’s eyes narrowed, red tinted irises glaring me down as she
repeated, “couldn’t make your dinner… well, I will admit I was
disappointed when my guards said you were hosting a party without an
invite delivered to me, though I understand based on the
circumstances.” The vampire rising to her feet and started towards
me with a forced slowness that made me think she was performing. My
feet finding themselves under me once more, stumbling to stand
straight up, taking a few steps away from Marty like it would protect
him. Her movements not deliberately intimidating, but seemingly
trying to avoid looking too inhuman around my son by being too quick
or smooth. An icy hand reaching out, the wolf flinching as it cupped
my face and one sharp nail traced the stitches on my cheek, “oh,
pet, someone else hurt you?”
I couldn’t move, the wolf curled in a ball as I forced out the
words, “I dealt with it,” her smile almost proud at that answer.
“You dealt with it, I knew my pet was capable of subtlty,” The
Lady purred, shaking her head as she finally stepped away and
admitted, “well, I baked you some pastries as formal apology for my
behavior the other day. I am… aware you forced my hand, but perhaps
I over reacted.” The vampire bending down and snapping a pastry
from the ground with inhuman grace, the object held out with a cold
smile, “sample it for me?”
I wanted to refuse, to try ripping her throat out or run as far as I
could, and all the same my hand gently reached for the pastry. The
Lady not stopping me as I took it, too scared to do anything else as
I bit into it and chewed the barely tasted texture. A part of me
understanding she probably told the truth, they tasted too old
fashioned and plain to be from a store or actual chef, and another
part wanting to throw up the fruit filled bread.
The Lady looking proud all the same as she told me, “we are… even
I believe. Were any of these rowdy neighbors someone you
recognized?”
The words striking a chord in me, and I was grateful Gevaudan was
focused on my son as forced myself to answer, “not now, talk to
Red.”
If she was upset by the answer or not impossible to tell, her
expression a stony smile as The Lady repeated, “Red,” and then
looked back towards the room, “I believe… things are not
completely adequate for your family here anymore, correct? A poor
host I’ve been. I will have my men clean the mess in the living
room in the next thirty minutes, the mess in the halls by the night’s
end. I can have another place prepared for you if you-”
“With my dad,” I interrupted, the words coming out before I even
thought of them. Loud enough to make everyone look up at me as I
explained, “he’s… I trust him. You’ll already have people
near him, and he’ll protect Marty too, I just… I need to go see
Percy, make a couple calls, can you hold off until I can go with
them?”
The Lady’s smile widened a moment, fangs briefly flashed, and her
voice cold as she said, “we can hold off. Noon tomorrow, this will
give your family time to… prepare a place for them. I was informed
your father’s contract had been released, and the repairs on your
childhood home have been completed, they won’t turn down hosting
guests as payment. Your belongings will be sent back to Covenant,
what you don’t take out before tonight’s end, understood?”
I nodded, not sure what else I could do and The Lady pushed past me
and started out the door. Her only goodbye a wave through the air,
and no one but Marty looking comfortable again until the door was
closed and the sound of her heels no longer filled the room.
My legs threatening to give out from under me once more as I walked
over and fell beside Gevaudan on the bed, head swirling as the woman
asked me, “is everything… we’re all safe, right, Mary?”
I nodded, forced myself to tell her, “yeah, just um… just some
people I used to know.”
The woman not speaking again for a long time until she half whispered
to ask, “was there… I made a few calls earlier, told Hunter that
Marty was in town in case he wanted to come visit. Did I…”
“No,” I lied, doing everything in my power to not scream, not
cry, not throw up in front of our son, “Hunter wasn’t there, he
wouldn’t do this. Percy might know more.”
My eye tracing the room, Arthur looking up at me with a stony
expression as he offered, “I can stay with them until you get back,
I’ll call the church and get a substitute for my duties tomorrow,
they’ll understand a family emergency.”
His words probably one of the few comforts I felt as I asked, “did
you catch where they sent Percy?”