Act Two Chapter Eight - Disappointed

Paul slammed his fist hard into Dylan’s jaw, staggering his sire. Dylan backed off and shook the stun out of his head, letting his blood regenerate the massive bruise and broken jaw Paul had just inflicted.

“That was a little too hard. Do try to remember we’re just sparring and that you’re a lot stronger than you were as a human.” He said. “Still, you’ve got one nasty right hook.”

“It almost seems as though I have to learn to hold back more than go all out.”

“If you don’t want to kill…” Dylan’s attention was suddenly diverted to the edge of the city park were they were practicing. A very distraught woman charged out from the trees towards them.

“Is that Kathleen?” Dylan asked.

“I don’t…” Paul began, but then he realized it was her. Her new appearance had astounded him as much as Michael, so much so that he didn’t even recognize her at first.

She reached them and practically threw herself into Paul’s embrace. “He rejected me.” She sobbed out. The rest was hysterical inconsolable crying.

“We can take five.” Said Dylan. He then began to walk away.

Paul tried somewhat futilely to calm Kathleen down. It took a while, but she finally composed herself enough to speak. She told him about all the effort she’d put into making herself beautiful for Michael, of how she’d pleaded with him, of how she’d confessed her love to him, none of which swayed him to claim her as his own.

Paul said nothing, merely listened. His feelings were ambivalent. He was angry that Michael had hurt her, but also rather glad that he’d not snatched her out from under him. Yeah, Paul finally admitted to himself, he had more than just a soft spot for her. He wanted her and the new look only made the his physical attraction to her more pronounced. He’d always liked her, but now…wow.

He tried to keep those thoughts and emotions from showing, fearing that would only make Kathleen’s distress worse.

“It’s all about Sarah.” Kathleen snarled, her grief giving way to anger. “Maybe I should just kill her. I am a vampire now. That is what we do. Kill people who get in our way. I could burn that fucking house down with her inside. Let the little flatchested bitch roast to death.”

Paul was mildly disturbed by this sudden shift in Kathleen’s tone. “Now wait a minute, you can’t mean any of that. You’re not thinking straight.”

“I will win him. If I have to get her out of the way, then I will find a way to do it.”

“Kathleen, you’re not making sense. Do you honestly think he’ll come running to your arms if you murder the one he loves?”

“What choice will he have?”

“Julia, this Rebecca chick everyone keeps talking about. You’re a long way from the front of that line.” Paul reasoned in his mind. But Kathleen wasn’t interested in reason. Still, Paul couldn’t see any other way to get through to her. “There are lots of choices for him, Kathleen. There are already at least two others besides you waiting in the wings. He could embrace another childe on top of that. You’re not thinking straight. This isn’t the way to win him.”

“Then how do I do it? Help me.” She pleaded.

“I don’t want to.” Said Paul, surprised at his own forthrightness.

“He won’t let me alone if I don’t succeed.”

Ernie again. Paul frowned and stuck to his guns. “Forget about your sire.” He growled. “Not only does Michael have choices, but so do you. Others…” he began hesitantly. Did he really want to admit this now? “…who would gladly be with you.”

“And who are they?” she asked incredulously. He thought he was being obvious, but Kathleen’s lack of social nuance made her oblivious to his clues.

Paul was about to answer when Dylan rejoined them. “We are not alone.” Dylan warned ominously.

Seven figures in black fatigues emerged on the far side of the park. They were armed, nearly all their faces concealed by helmets and tactical masks. They looked like a police SWAT team, but the one whose face was not concealed said this was no truly law enforcement squad. Alexandros, the city sheriff, was leading the group.

“That’s the sheriff.” Said Paul, stating what was undoubtedly obvious to Dylan. “What’s he doing here?”

“I don’t know, but it would good to find out.” Dylan began to walk towards Alexandros.

“So what business of Walsh brings you to Conshohocken, Alex?” Dylan called out as he and the group approached one another.

“I’m not here for the Prince and neither are you.” Alexandros growled. With lightning speed, he drew out an old medieval broadsword from off his back and plunged the blade into Dylan’s chest. The six fatigued soldiers began to charge towards Paul and Kathleen.

“Run!” Dylan cried out. His hands morphed into jagged claws and he slashed across Alexandros’s face. The Ventrue sheriff staggered back, pulling the sword free as he did so.

Paul grabbed Kathleen by the hand and began to run. Bullets whipped through the air around them as they did so, but no gunfire reports. Silenced commando-style submachine guns. Top of the line military gear. Alexandros was here to kill.

One of the commandos found his mark and landed a half dozen rounds into Kathleen’s back. She twitched and let go of Paul’s hand, dropping into the grass.

“No!” barked Paul. He turned and went for her, making himself a more easy target. Bullets tore into his flesh now as well, but he kept upright.

“I’ll be alright.” Growled Kathleen as she came back to her feet. “Go!”

They dashed out of the park, through the trees, and onto the street beyond. As he ran, Paul picked up a good-sized rock from the floor of the woods. When they emerged onto the street, he whipped the rock at a nearby street light, shattering it and plunging the street into darkness.

“What was that for?” Kathleen asked as Paul pulled her down to hide behind a parked car.

“They can’t see in the dark like we can.” Or at least he hoped they couldn’t. With those guns, they probably had night vision goggles as well.

The troops emerged from the woods. Paul heard the barely audible click of flashlights coming on and saw the beams begin to cut across the air around them. Good, they lacked night vision after all.

“This is an odd play for the sheriff.” Paul muttered under his breath, barely above a whisper but he knew Kathleen could hear him. “We haven’t done anything.”

“He’ll kill us and say we provoked it to the Prince.” Explained Kathleen. “Or he’ll kill Dylan and go back and say we did it. Who’s the Prince going to believe anyway? Regardless, we, Michael and all the rest of us, are making an enemy tonight. Presuming we survive.”

Paul was impressed. He hadn’t realized Kathleen had such a devious and strategic mind. But Kathleen wasn’t done.

Just as one of the commandos reached the opposite side of the car from them, Kathleen popped up. “You! Shoot him!”

The mesmeric power of the Ventrue took hold of the soldier and he turned his weapon on his partner, opening fire and killing him immediately. Paul didn’t hesitate. He sprang out from behind the car to tackle the enchanted soldier. A quick twist and the man’s neck snapped clean.

“Nicely done.” Said Paul, snatching up the soldier’s gun. He’d been right about it. An MP5SD gun like that used by the Navy Seals and other special forces. Its integral silencer made it one of the quietest weapons ever built.

Kathleen gathered up the other soldier’s gun. Now they were armed, but neither was well trained in their use. Paul had to admit that he’d only ever fired his grandfather’s shotguns and hunting rifles before, never a military grade weapon like this. He was also quite certain Kathleen had never fired any kind of gun before. He hoped they’d be quick learners.

“Come on. Let’s take the fight to them.” He said. He took two steps before he felt like something hit him in the chest. It was not a bullet or a weapon. Just a feeling. A raw empty hollow feeling within, like someone had gone in and scooped everything inside him out. He stumbled back and dropped back down behind the car.

“Are you alright?” She asked. “You look sick.”

“Dylan is dead.” He said. He didn’t quite know how, but he knew that’s what this sick feeling meant. He’d sensed his sire’s demise.

“There!” they heard a voice. Bullets zipped about them again. Paul yanked Kathleen down behind the car with him. Cars were not usually good cover against military firearms, despite what TV programs often depicted. But 9mm rounds were not quite powerful enough to penetrate an engine block, so they had some protection.

They also had another advantage. Vampires were largely bulletproof. He gritted his teeth and stood up. Bullets tore into him as the commandos found their target, but he ignored them and returned fire. A single burst took down the leftmost soldier of the pair and then Paul dropped back behind cover.

“Got one.”

Kathleen opened fire…under the car. Her burst was followed up by a howl of pain and the thump of a body hitting the pavement. “Me too.” She grinned.

That hadn’t killed the soldier, of course. Paul broke cover, ran up, and gave the wounded man a solid kick to the face. The blow, much like his punch to Dylan earlier, crushed bone and finished him off.

Paul took a moment to look the soldier over. His black fatigues strongly resembled a Police SWAT uniform, but without any identifying markings like department badges, rank insignia, or nameplate.

“Are they police?” Kathleen asked. She, as an assistant medical examiner, knew damn well what killing cops would bring down on them.

“I doubt it. Paramilitary. Mercenaries of some sort would be my guess.”

A loud shotgun blast interrupted them. Kathleen dropped backwards, her clothing and chest shredded by the buckshot. In that moment, Paul lost his mind. The Beast took over.

When he came back to himself, he was in the middle of the dismembered bodies of the last two commandos, the taste of their blood on his mouth. Kathleen was back on her feet, her vicious wound thankfully regenerated.

“What the hell was that?” she asked, a hint of fear on her voice.

“I think that’s what they call a frenzy.” Paul panted. “I saw you go down and I just lost it.”

“We’ve still got the Sheriff to deal with.”

“He killed Dylan. What the hell can we do to him?”

“Indeed.” And there he was, sword in hand. He grabbed Kathleen and made to swing, a blow that would probably cut her in half if it landed.

Paul dove for the shotgun and with lightning reflexes, brought it around. He fired somewhat blindly, but the blast hit the sword and shattered it.

“This is my boomstick!” he cried out, remembering a similar scene in a movie. He fired again. This time, the buckshot tore Alexandros across the chest, neck, and jaw. He staggered and let Kathleen go.

Kathleen dashed over to Paul and grabbed him, yanking him to his feet. Already, Alexandros had healed nearly all of that brutal wound. He could regenerate far faster than either of them, a benefit of his age and power. They ran.

“How can we kill that?” Paul panted as they fled south down the street as fast as they could go.

“We need a weapon that can injure him.” She mused.

“Fire? Sunlight? Where are we going to find those in the middle of the night?” He spun about to fire the shotgun again at the pursuing Alexandros. The shot hit home, knocking the sheriff off his feet and giving them a moment.

“Don’t waste you ammo. We’ll need it.” Kathleen stopped abruptly next to another parked car, an old 80s vintage Crown Vic. She grabbed the door handle. It was locked.

“What are you doing?” Paul asked. Kathleen didn’t answer, but merely willed all her remaining strength and the power of her blood into that door. It ripped off.

“Fuck me.” Paul said with astonishment.

“Get in!” she barked. “We have only a few seconds.”

Paul jumped in and slid to the passenger side. Kathleen followed and immediately ripped the cover off the steering column.

“You can hotwire?”

“I read too damn much.” She admitted. The car came to life. She twisted the wheel and tore out of the parking space, just as Alexandros reached them. She slammed the huge car right into him and carried him along with them into the row of cars across the street, pinning him in place.

“Now! Finish him.” Yelled Kathleen.

“How?”

“Blow his fucking head off!”

Paul jumped out, rammed the shotgun into Alexandros’ face, and pulled the trigger. The point blank shot exploded through his flesh, sending bits of brain, blood, and bone everywhere. Where was little left of Alexandros’ head when the smoke cleared. He turned to dust a few seconds later.

“We did it.” Said Paul, relief washing over him like a wave.

“This isn’t over.” She said. “The submachine guns were quiet, but that shotgun was not. Let’s get the hell out of here because the real cops are bound to be on their way.”

They ran, leaving the wrecked cars where they were, as well as the six bodies of the commandos. They ran for Michael’s haven and hammered on the door. Julia opened it, weapon in hand, a look of anxious readiness on her face.

“Where’s Michael?” Paul demanded.

“Here.” Michael emerged from his office. He looked the two of them over. Their clothes were shredded and they were covered in blood and powder residue.

“We have a new problem.” Said Paul.

---

Walsh was in his study, pouring over the ledgers for church donations when Didi and Caine walked inside.

“I have to admit.” Walsh admitted. “I’ve been looking for a distraction. The Church is not making the money it once did. Damn scandals are ruining our profit margins.”

“I fear the news I bring, your Eminence, will not make you any happier.” Said Caine.

“Out with it.”

“It appears Michael Allens is far more aggressive and far more foolish than we anticipated. He’s made his next move.”

“Already? He’s hasn’t fully gained control of Villanova and Bryn Mawr yet.”

“Regardless, Alexandros is dead.”

“Impossible.” Snarled Walsh incredulously.

“I’m afraid Caine speaks the truth.” Added Didi.

“Bring me Dylan. The Hound will deal with this outrage.”

“Dylan is dead as well.” Admitted Didi. “Killed in the same attack. This is a direct attack on your sovereignty. Two officers of the court murdered in a single night.”

“The damned novice fool thinks this will intimidate me?” said Walsh, rage creeping into his voice. “Fine. Let us show him just what it means to be Prince. Let the word go forth, to every coterie and every kindred of this city. Michael Allens and his allies are anathema. They are condemned. They shall find no succor, no shelter, no aid at all from any kindred of this city. They are to be hunted down and destroyed to the last. I declare a blood hunt.”

“As you wish, your Eminence.” Didi looked at Caine and the two shared a sinister smile with one another.

---

Michael was packing up his most necessary belongings from the computer room, all the stuff he considered he couldn’t live without. The doorbell rang and Michael swiftly snatched up his Beretta pistol and katana to answer it.

Sarah emerged from their bedroom as he advanced on the door. “The people after us are not going to ring the doorbell.” She reminded him calmly. She slid past him, walked to the door, and opened it.

It was Boar. He stepped inside. “Solomon and Damian just arrived. They’re coming up behind me. Mitch is about 5 minutes away. Should I go fetch Paul and Kathleen?”

“Do so.” Barked Michael. Boar darted back out.

By the time he returned with Paul and Kathleen, all were assembled: Boar, Mitch, Damian, Solomon, Paul, Kathleen, Julia, Sarah, and Michael. All those now under condemnation from the Prince.

“Well, it’s confirmed.” Said Damian as everyone gathered into the living room of Michael’s apartment. “The Prince has officially called a blood hunt on all of us.” He looked at Mitch and Boar. “Or at least all of us kindred.”

“Somehow, I doubt those coming for us are going to be all that discriminating.”

“Well, the Masquerade still needs to be maintained.” Michael emphasized. “So running gun battles like what Paul and Kathleen had last night are going to be few and far between.”

“If so, then why did Alexandros come after us like that?” asked Paul. He hovered tightly near Kathleen. His feelings for her had become far more intense after their shared near-death experience and he was no longer even remotely trying to hide them. Kathleen, however, still appeared oblivious to them.

“This was a setup.” Explained Michael. “He was probably just a tool of someone else who tricked him into seeing us as an imminent threat. He was meant to die. The fact that he took out Dylan as well only gave his minders even more ammunition to use against us. We’ve been framed.”

“I get how we’ve been set up as scapegoats here.” Paul continued. “What I don’t get is what’s behind that. Why attack us? We’ve threatened nobody except the Dark Brotherhood.”

“Not entirely.” Interjected Solomon. “I've since learned that Bala Cynwyd was Alexandros’s hunting ground. He knew he was next on our list.”

“That seems premature, if not paranoid, for him to strike at us so.” Said Sarah.

“It got him killed.” Added Julia. “Obviously wasn’t very smart.”

“As I said,” replied Michael. “Someone set him up. Probably added some fuel to the fire, something that necessitated a more direct response.”

“And I can guess who was behind that.” Added Mitch. “The Consilium mages are very concerned about collusion between certain vampires and the Brotherhood. This is retaliation for Professor Noble.”

“Walsh and the Brotherhood? That’s scary.” Said Sarah.

“It doesn’t need to be the Prince himself, just someone in some position of authority and trust.” Said Damian. “Although it would be rather convenient for Walsh to be on board with whatever this alliance is.”

“All this speculation is moot right now.” Said Boar. He looked at Michael. “They’re coming for us. What are we going to do?”

“Well, if Prince Elias Walsh wants a fight, then I’m plenty inclined to give him one.” Answered Damian. “However, in order for me to do that, I would need to rally some of my resources. That means a brief trip out of town to visit some friends in Washington.”

“I’m a nomad.” Said Solomon. “Easy thing for me to leave town as well.”

“We can’t all do that.” Said Michael. “If we all flee, we admit defeat.”

“Staying out in the open is going to get us killed however.” Said Sarah.

“We go to ground." said Michael emphatically. "We stay put, but we hide. Break off into smaller groups so Walsh and his allies can waste all their energy trying to find us.”

“How small?” asked Paul.

“No one solo, but more than three is probably too many. I’d say we pair up or as close as we can manage.”

“I can probably hide out a pair of us with my new werewolf pack.” Offered Boar. “We’re semi-mobile. We’re tricky to track and if someone does find us, I doubt they’ll be eager to deal with eight snarling-mad werewolves.”

“Michael, that should be you.” Said Julia emphatically. “The best protection.”

“No,” Michael replied. “Send Paul and Kathleen to the werewolves. They’re the weakest and least experienced.”

“Appreciate the offer.” Said Paul, “but is that wise?”

“Yes, because I’m going to hope that Mitch can make a similar offer with his new mage friends.” Said Michael. “We may be hiding, but I want to know more about this Brotherhood alliance and the best way to do that is to get closer to those who understand the Brotherhood best.”

“I can try,” replied Mitch. “but I don’t have the authority over the mages the way Boar does with his wolves.”

“I have every confidence in you.”

“What about me?” asked Julia.

“Solomon. Go with him.” Michael looked at Solomon as he said that to her, gauging his reaction. The big Gangrel merely nodded his assent.

“As you wish.” Said Julia.

“We’ll keep in touch via cellphone. Our primary goal while we’re hiding is to gain enough leverage against the Prince to get him to rescind the Blood Hunt against us. That means…” He looked at Damian. “…we can either make ourselves too big a threat to challenge so directly or…” He looked at Mitch. “…we can uncover the depths of this plot between the vampires and the Brotherhood mages. Leverage is our goal. Anything that can be used to force the Prince’s hand is going to be of use. Good luck.”

---

Boar drove his truck down into a dark wooded part of Fairmount Park. “We had to break camp for a few days after the Ashwood Abbey came calling. They shot up the camp and tried to put the scare on us, but we chased them off. Now we’re back…for now. These guys are skittish. I’m working on trying to get their guts back, their courage.”

“What does this have to do with us?” asked Paul.

“You’re going to help me. We’re going to train. We’re going to spar. We’re going to show these wolves how to be hunters again. Fierce and terrifying. That’ll be how you’ll earn your keep and occupy your time until Michael calls us all back together.”

“A vampire teaching a bunch of werewolves how to fight? That’s funny.”

“How do we know they won’t just tear us to pieces?” asked Kathleen nervously.

“Because I won’t let them.” Said Boar firmly. “You’ll have to trust me. Michael does.”

The headlights flashed onto a makeshift camp a few hundred yards into the woods from where they entered. Paul had much the same assessment of the camp as Boar had when he first saw it: a homeless shanty town. Boar killed the engine and the lights and got out.

“Welcome home.” Said Cortez.

“I brought friends.” Said Boar as Paul and Kathleen disembarked.

Cortez sniffed. “They ain’t human.”

“I told you I had friends. Some of them are vampires. This is Paul and Kathleen. I’ve brought them here to help me toughen you up.”

“We don’t need their kind of help.”

“I’m the one who says that, Cortez, or did you forget that you surrendered your authority as Alpha? Are you going to challenge for it back or just piss yourself again at the thought of facing me?”

Cortez snarled, a very animal gesture for a werewolf in human form. But he made no further sign of defiance.

“Gather the pack. We’ll meet in the field.” ordered Boar. Cortez walked away dutifully.

“Friendly fellow.” Commented Paul sarcastically.

“Cortez is the former Alpha. He’s a mite passive-aggressive, but he’s also my problem. You don’t need to worry about him.”

Paul and Kathleen followed Boar through the camp out towards a large open clearing beyond. Already, a number of people were beginning to gather there. Paul guessed at least a dozen; some were hanging back while others were front and center. About 50/50 split. Paul guessed that was the divide between “master” and “servant,” or more specifically between real werewolves and their human friends and family.

Boar let off a loud howl; like Cortez’s snarl, it seemed odd to hear such an animal sound from a human body. That brought the disparate group to pay him attention. “When I assumed the mantle of leadership, I promised there would be changes.” He began in a loud and commanding voice. “I said to you that I would make your strong again, that I would make fighters of you and give you back your courage. I also said that I had allies, people who would help us. Tonight all that begins. I have with me two such allies, two vampires that have come to us.

“The test is simple. Vampires are stronger and swifter than mortals. If you can match one in battle, you can defeat a human. If you can overpower one, then no human being is even remotely close to your equal.”

“This is not a good idea.” Paul whispered to Kathleen. “I’m not a fighter and you’re even less of one than I am.”

“I won’t break that easily.” She retorted. “I am kindred and what Boar is saying is true…for both of us.”

“Paul, Kathleen, step forward.” Boar commanded. Paul stepped up beside Boar and Kathleen followed. Boar looked over his pack. “Who goes first?”

“I will.” Said Janice, stepping forward. Paul’s eyes grew wide. “Hello, brother.”

---

The initial shock of the family reunion passed quickly as Janice made good on her promise to be “the first.” She immediately shifted to wolf-man form and launched a ferocious attack on Paul, coupled with verbal taunts and insults the likes of which even her packmates had never heard. All sorts of angry commentary about “How dare you follow me” and “You’re not the boss of me.” Boar eventually had to pull them apart. Whatever family squabble had been renewed here tonight, he couldn’t let it interfere with his plan to toughen up his pack.

Janice’s aggression, regardless of its source, proved rather valuable however. As she launched fearlessly into an assault on her brother, the anxiety the rest of the pack showed towards attacking two vampires vanished almost immediately. Those animal instincts inside each of them took over and they began to find their confidence again.

True to her word, Kathleen held her own against her opponents. It was clear pretty early on that neither Paul nor Kathleen had much formal training in hand-to-hand fighting, but they were vampires. Strong and fast and the werewolves soon learned that to their detriment. More than a few underestimated them and found themselves nursing bruised ribs and broken bones. Those wounds healed quickly enough, but the pain of them taught some valuable lessons as well.

After a few hours, Boar called an end to the sparring. The werewolves were tired and worn-out, but already you could see the return of some of their ferocity. They were starting to realize they could take the offensive after so long of being on the run from both hunters and other werewolves. Paul and Kathleen were a little worse for wear too. They took off into the woods to find prey of their own to satisfy their own appetites.

“This might just work.” Boar mused aloud to no one in particular. He’d taken a seat around the central campfire.

“Yes, it just might.” Came an answer. Boar looked up to see Natasha, the Gypsy woman he’d met the first day he’d come to the camp. He hadn’t seen her since that day and he hadn’t realized that she was there tonight until now. “You seem surprised.”

“My life has been full of surprises. My vampire allies sent me to find any werewolf pack I could and to make friends. Neither they nor I ever expected I would take charge. I have no leadership experience. I’m no master strategist. I’m just making this up as I go along…and it’s working…so far.”

Natasha laughed. “You might be surprised to learn that most leaders would say the same thing about themselves. Confidence is worth more than experience and knowledge in this regard. They follow you because you’re not afraid.”

“Well, while we’re on the topic of fearlessness,” said Boar smoothly, “I’m curious to find out what I could do to get you into bed with me.”

Natasha laughed again. “This is what I love about living among uratha. You don’t mince words. No games. No bullshit. I love the honesty.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No, I didn’t. I’d rather you try to figure that out for yourself.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like games and bullshit.”

“I’m not uratha.” She retorted with a smile.

“Good point.” Conceded Boar. He scratched his chin and put on a thoughtful look, as if trying to unlock the mystery of this beautiful woman across from him. “Now Cortez admitted…”

“Don’t assume that what he did is what will work for you.” Corrected Natasha mildly. “Or that what I wanted from him is what I might want from you.”

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Is it supposed to be?” she replied flippantly.

Now it was Boar’s turn to smile and laugh. He had her already and he could tell. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, but she wasn’t going to just give in. Why then the game? There was something else to it that Boar couldn’t put his finger on. But if he had to play, he was going to play to win.

“Alright, very well.” Said Boar. “A mystery it is and like any good detective, I’m going to have to investigate to learn the secret.” He shifted posture, paradoxically getting more intense and more relaxed at the same time. “So why are you here? What’s your connection to all of this?”

“My father, Sergei, used to be one of the greatest alphas in Eastern Pennsylvania. His pack roamed from Philadelphia to Scranton, 70 strong. My mother lived in Allentown. You know how werewolf families are. Unless the mated couple is somehow already a part of this world, you end up with a lot of broken homes and mine was typical. Father showed up to make a baby and then vanished again. Growing up, I never knew why Mother always let him back in. But then my younger brother, Milosh, wanted to run away from home. He’d had his first change and Father came to him to get to join the pack. Milosh told me all this. He told me everything. So when Father came for him, I asked to go along too. I wasn’t going to let my kid brother out into the wider world alone.”

“You’re close to him?”

“Very.” She pointed off to her left into the darkness. “He’s right over there. Still together, nearly 10 years later. Mother knew all along, what Father really was, but never said anything. And now she knows what Milosh is and she respects our decision to live in this world instead of the mortal one.”

“Respects, but isn’t all that happy about it.”

“What parent ever finds giving up their children easy? Truth is, I'm sure she's convinced that my father's fate will be ours. Father was killed about five years ago and his pack disintegrated. We scattered. Milosh and I wandered about until we found this pack here, the only one that would accept us. They hoped, I think, that I would be uratha as well, but that never happened. No first change for me, I'm just a human, kintouched, but just human.

"So while my brother ran with the pack, I found work. Put myself through school. Became a legal secretary and worked for a non-profit that advocates for the homeless of the city. Met a lot of people. Made a lot of contacts. That’s why the police don’t hassle the pack about the camp. The cops assigned this beat are friends of mine. So that’s my story. What’s yours?”

“Well,” Boar began. “there’s a lot similar. No dad growing up. Not all that unusual in a black household in the inner city. But I was lucky. I was smart and talented and got into school. Met my two best friends there: Michael and Mitch. And as fate would have it, we all got changed at almost the exact same time. My first change into uratha. Michael was embraced as a vampire and Mitch became a wizard. Ever since then, we’ve kind of been orbiting one another, moving in and out of each other’s circles, getting caught up in each other’s schemes. It’s had its advantages. I know more about their kind that probably any other werewolf. It also let me meet people like Paul and Kathleen and call upon their help when needed.”

“You’ve already admitted you came to us on a vampire’s errand." observed Natasha. "An uratha that associates with vampires and mages is a rare thing indeed. I’m guessing however that you’ve spent the last few years more around their kind than your own. The question is why. For all of our squabbles and disagreements, a pack is family. Our bonds are strong. What would make you forsake that to take up with others as you have?”

Suddenly, Boar wasn’t so eager to play this game. Natasha was very perceptive, dangerously so. Somehow, she’d sensed there was something that had kept him apart from werewolf society for a very long time. That something, of course, was Ami Janes, the young werewolf he’d fallen in love with and gotten pregnant, a high crime in uratha society. As a result, Boar had been exiled and Ami was hunted down and killed. Boar would later return and wreak terrible vengeance upon his pack, slaughtering nearly all of them with help from Michael and Mitch.

“I found those bonds among my friends." Boar answered slowly. "That fellowship and family you speak of exist between myself and Mitch and Michael. My pack, the one into which I was inducted after my first change, proved much less welcoming than they did.”

“I’m not accustomed to hearing evasion from an uratha’s mouth.”

“This conversation began with a talk of fearlessness. Time to be fearless now.” Boar reasoned. “I mated with another uratha.” He blurted out hurriedly. “I fell in love with one of my own kind.”

“And she got pregnant.”

“And they killed her. I ran away. I escaped,” Illia iacta est, “but I came back. I came back with my friends, with vampires and mages, and I made them pay for it. My first pack… died. Nearly all of them for what they did. The rest, the tiny handful that survived, scattered into the night.”

Natasha looked at him without speaking for several minutes. Boar stared back, also not speaking. He would not back down. He was not ashamed of what he’d done. It was justice, the righting of a wrong and a righteous punishment inflicted upon those who’d murdered Ami. If anything, the emotion he felt in that moment was anger, awoken all over again at what his own people had done to someone he’d loved.

“You would move heaven and earth for those that you love.” Natasha admitted, breaking the silence at last. “And God help anyone who dared harm them.”

“Yeah,” Boar said. “I guess so.”

“I was right about you.” She said. “You’re the very person we need. Cortez became alpha because he had to; he never wanted to be leader. But someone like you, who can truly love this pack and fight for it like you did for your dead lover, that’s a different story.” She paused. “I suppose my next question brings us back to the beginning of this conversation. You asked what it would take to get me into your bed. Is that all you really want? I gave that to Cortez, because it was fun. I was lonely, he was stressed, and it served as a nice outlet for the both of us. But I’m not going to pretend and I doubt he would either that there was anything real between us.”

“He did seem quick to give you up.”

“Because I was never truly his. But I could be yours…like she was.”

Boar could feel his own heart pound when Natasha admitted that. Was that really what he wanted? He’d never really been quite as enthusiastic for libertinism as Mitch and Michael had been. Sure, he’d had a few rolls-in-the-hay with Michael’s harem. (Who hadn’t in their circle of friends?) But, just like what Natasha had described with Cortez, there was nothing of substance or meaning there. It was just fun sex, nothing more.

“You scare me, Natasha.” Boar admitted.

“Why?”

“You figured me out way too easily. That you could tell my first question was really facetious and I was genuinely hoping for a lot more is really scary.”

“It’s a gift. Call it Gypsy intuition. You know our reputation. Always looking for a score and finding the people most vulnerable to our schemes. I guess I just pegged you as an easy mark.” She smiled at his discomfort. “I’m good at reading people. Whether or not that has anything to do with a prejudiced stereotype of my ethnicity is anyone’s guess. It makes for a nice story at least.”

She paused and then spoke again, more seriously. “Michael,” she said, using Boar’s real first name (which he almost never did), “we both want the same thing. Someone to spend the rest of our lives with. Now I don’t know any better than you do if that will work out in the long run between us. But the person I’ve gotten to know, both directly and indirectly, over the past week is the sort of person I could see by my side for the rest of my days. If you’ll have me. If you’ll give this a try with me.”

“You know,” Boar said with a sly grin. “there’s something funny about this. Most couples that come together are secretly hoping, without much evidence, that the person they’re with might, just maybe, be that one. But it’s all a big secret. You never admit that openly on a first date or first encounter unless you’re a crazy person. We just did. We just broke that taboo.”

“You’re uratha. Honesty and forthrightness is in your nature. As I said, it’s what I like about your kind.”

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