The moon, for which the great expanse of forest surrounding Rose city had been given its name, shined brightly in the sky, bathing the world with a bright silver glow. The night was a cool one. Not a cloud drifted across the velvety black sky, and the air was cool and crisp. Perfect for a dash through the woods. A quick run was what Aurora Mortenson needed to clear her head. A moment away. Then she could get back to the stressful duties of being a leader.
She sprinted at a speed impossible for any human, dodging in and out of trees with grace, leaping easily over brush, and fallen trees. Nothing was an obstacle for her.
Yet she stopped, something other than the cool night air brought goosebumps to her skin, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. The smell of blood. Aurora closed her eyes and took in the scent, trying to prove herself wrong. No. This can't be her. It just can't. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and moved towards the source of the sharp, coppery smell, rounding a tree to find a body laying there on the ground, motionless.
It was a gruesome sight. The woman before her had been a beautiful one, with flowing auburn hair splashed across the ground, mingling with the blood that was still pouring from a deep wound just under her ribs. On the ground next to the woman, lay a knife. Immediatly, Aurora grabbed for it, but the woman's hand shot out and caught her wrist. "Aurora." She whispered in a hoarse voice, clogged with blood, and she couldn't take it anymore. The indifferent look dropped from her face and she fell to her knees beside the woman, grasping her hand tightly.
"Charlise!" She choked, using her free hand to smooth the woman's hair. "Charlise, please. Where... Where were you? What happened?" She looked at her friend in a panic. This dying woman was the last remaining tie she had to her human life. She'd known her for over two-hundred years. Had taken her in when her coven was destroyed, only for her to go missing a few months ago. The loss had nearly killed Aurora, but she'd had to work through it. For her coven.
"Aurora. I don't-" She heaved a shaky breath and Aurora saw that the gash under the woman's ribs had punctured her lungs. "I don't have much... Much time." Shakily, Charlise lifted her free hand to Aurora's cheek and Aurora used her own to clasp it there and close her eyes tightly. "The werewolves. Make peace with them."
That startled her into opening her eyes. "What?" She asked breathlessly, but it was too late. Her friend was gone. Aurora let out a groan of agony and leaned over Charlise's cold body, clutching her lifeless hand to her chest. It was all she could do not to cry. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here." She choked and dropped her friends hand after quite a while of sitting there like that, refusing to believe that she was really gone.
Gently, she placed Charlise's hands in a cross against her chest and closed the woman's eyes before reaching across her and grabbing the blade that had killed her. It was still coated with her blood, but the sheen of silver was unmistakable. No werewolf could have killed her. So who did? Aurora looked at her friend in confusion. Why were her dying words about the werewolves?
Knees shaking for the first time in almost two centuries, Aurora stood unsteadily and took a step backwards. Something crunched under her foot and she reached down to grab the small item. It was a figurine. Wooden and tiny. Aurora's eyebrows knit tightly in confusion as she inspected it. As she did so, something caught her eye. A glimmer in the trees. Aurora tucked the figurine away and gripped the knife handle tightly, smelling the air. Of course. The smell of Charlise's blood had masked another scent in the air.
They had a watcher. Her killer had stayed to gawk. Aurora's icy eyes filled with hatred and vengeance as she threw herself at the bushes, knife raised high.
Aurora Mortenson emerged from her bathroom in a cloud of steam. With a sigh, she ran a thick black brush through golden blond hair and sat on her bed, checking the clock. Two in the morning. Not a bad time for a vampire to be just getting ready for bed. Not bad at all, in fact, most of her coven was probably still wide awake. She'd just gotten back from a midnight investigation into the murders and disappearences that had been happening lately . Her findings had shocked her and she'd needed a good bath to think. Now, sitting on her bed, she placed the brush down and picked up the small figurine sitting on her bedside table.
The figure was one of a woman, pulling a bow back, ready to shoot. She closed her fingers around it, squeezing harder and harder until there was a brief second of pain and then the thing snapped in two. Just like that. A month ago, her closest friend had gone missing, vanishing out of no where.
Tonight, Aurora had found the huntress figurine laying beside her mangled body. She had had to use all her willpower to force herself to inspect the wounds and after careful examination, found exactly what she'd feared. None of the marks were werewolf claw marks or bites.
Meaning someone else had done this. Someone who'd left the figurine. Aurora glared at the broken thing in her hand, demanding it to provide her tired mind with a logical answer. Sadly, it did not answer her and she sighed, setting it aside and standing to change into her white nightgown.
As soon as she stood, Aurora was forced to sit again. A blinding white light seared through her eyes, burning her, and making her scream. As a vampire , one of her greatest fears was blindness, but just as she'd thought she'd never see again, the light dimmed and the pain subsided.
Aurora found herself panting hard and she slapped a hand down on her bed to reassure herself that she was okay. Her hand struck paper. She looked down to see that she'd smacked a yellowed letter that had certainly not been there a moment ago. What the hell had just happened? Confused, Aurora lifted the letter delicately and read through it.
She dropped it, letting it float gently to the floor at her feet. For the first time in a hundred years, her hands shook with shock as she quickly threw on her lace nightgown and grabbed the letter. Without even stopping for slippers or a robe, Aurora marched straight down the hall, white lace billowing behind her as she moved purposefully.
She knew what she had to do. She wasn't going to like it, and neither was her coven, but it had to be done. According to the letter, it was the only logical solution. After what she'd seen in the woods earlier, she knew she was making the right choice. Reaching Julien's room, she gave the door a rough knock. "Julien! Get your lazy ass out here! There's something we need to talk about." She paused. "Bring Fox too, I'm sure she's in there."
Aurora would call a coven meeting, but she knew doing it in this state would do more harm than good. Her coven had never so much as seen a flicker of distress on her face. If they saw her now, eyes wild and desperate, expression grim, tear stains streaking her cheeks, they would surely panic. Besides, this was a matter for the leader and the second alone. She'd made her decision. The others would either live with it or have to find a new coven. That's how things usually worked around the mansion anyway. The only reason she wanted Fox there, was to deliver a message. The faerie had the ability to teleport, and since she wasn't technically bound to her coven, Aurora couldn't exactly order her around, so she let the girl stay with the small condition of a few minor favors here and there.
Growing impatient, she knocked again. "Julien." She hissed into the door, wincing at the way her voice cracked. "It's urgent."
Caprice Mornelli sat in her office, a stack of files in her lap. Her clock read two in the morning, and as she worked, she held a cup of coffee in one hand, heels propped up on her desk almost carelessly. Large brown eyes scanned line after line of tiny 8 pt font, not even tired despite the late hour. She was used to late nights. Not only was Caprice a workaholic, but there was also no better time to catch a vampire or slay a werewolf than two or three in the morning.
Or apparently read files.
A disturbance at her door made Caprice look up, one eyebrow hooked upwards as if to say: "Can't you see I'm busy?" At her door stood her messenger. He wasn't good for much, but he knew how to protect himself at least. Sad really, what became of her fellow Cacciatori members who really had no skill. "What is it Albert?" She asked rather impatiently.
"Its Jace, Miss Mornelli." The man said sheepishly.
"And? What about him? Because short if him being dead, there is absolutely no reason for you to bother me while I'm working." She said annoyed. As if to prove a point, Caprice stood, towering over the man.
"Uhm.. Actually.. He is dead. Killed by a vampire just now."And with that, Albert scampered out of the room barely missing the vase that was pitched at his head when she'd registered what he'd said . "WHAT?!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs, the photo on her desk rattling violently. Jace was dead? How? He was one of her top men. She shook her head. Damn vampires, if you wanted something done right you had to do it yourself.
Sitting, Caprice managed to calm herself again and think logically. Papers forgotten, she grabbed for the phone. The secretary's voice came, asking her who she wanted. "Archer please." she said an waited a minute. Since most agents were at the office either for last minute paperwork or a late night hunt, it only too Jace's brother a second to answer. "Archer, yes, its Caprice. I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you, but Jace has been killed by a vampire. I would like you in my office right now please." Her voice was pleasant and sympathetic as she spoke, a completely misleading. She set down the phone and dropped her head into her hands with a groan. Her men were the equivalent of assassins. Silent, and dangerous, able to kill
and cover up their tracks. She rarely lost anyone on the job. Jace's death was shocking.
"Uhm... Is- Uh, is this a bad time?" Albert's voice came again from her doorway.
"Was the vase not a good enough indication that I would like you to stop bothering me Albert or would you like a stapler too? I won't miss this time." She hissed into her hands and dropped one to pick up the stapler. Looking up, she popped it open and raised one eyebrow. "This better be good."
Albert shifted nervously and contemplated telling her. Caprice rolled her eyes and raised the stapler. It had the desired effect and got him to get on with it.
"Jace's partner just returned. We know who killed him.""Good boy. Bring him here." She said with a smile, waiting as Albert brought in Jace's partner, who shifted. "Well... Get on with it." She hissed clicking the stapler.
"It was a bloodsucker for sure. We were out hunting and found this one... She was familiar. You remember that old coven we'd burned a while back, a few cities off? She had been their leader. Apparently she got away." He paused, whether for dramatic affect or to irritate her, she didn't know. "So that's who killed him?" She rolled her eyes, hating when people danced around the point.
"No ma'am. He killed that bitch, but as he was retreating another one showed up. I was well gone by then, but I turned back to see what was taking so long. When I'd arrived she was crouched over his body, holding his Artemis lucky figurine. Then she just took off. I'm lucky to be alive."Caprice groaned. "That's great, but you do realize if it had been you and not Jace I would have a much better fighter left? From the way it sounds, all you did was run off." She rolled his eyes. "Your mistake of not killing that other vampire a while back got you into this mess to begin with. Now who killed him? I might forgive you if you give me a name."
He looked shocked, but stepped forward to the files on her desk. He shifted through the vampire ones before he came to two blond girls. Here he hesitated and Caprice leaned on the edge of her seat. One was the vampire coven leader herself and the other was one of the normal coven members. After close consideration, he selected the picture of Aurora.
"This one." He stated plainly before turning and leaving. Caprice smiled and lifted the picture. If little miss Aurora had killed one of her men, then she knew about the Cacciatori. It was about time she was brought in for a little good torture and questioning.
With a grin, she leaned back in her chair and awaited Archer's arrival.
Thunder rolled outside and Emmanuel slept peacefully, dreaming of things like fields and rabbits. Huge rabbits. The wolf side of him couldn't help but dream of the soft little snacks every time he closed his eyes. They were delicious, succulent little appetizers. This time though, his dreams were interrupted by a soft noise in his head.
Are you asleep? A voice that wasn't his intruded on his dream and Emmanuel blinked his eyes open slowly, groaning. The room was dark and he blinked twice to let his eyes adjust. Before him, was the window and his nightstand, since he was a side sleeper. With one glance at the window, he knew who was behind him. There was a wild storm raging outside. Quickly, he glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 2:05 a.m.
With a tired sigh, Emmanuel rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow to see his visitor. Just as he'd suspected. The connection in his head could have been any one of the pack members. They could communicate telepathically. But with the storm outside, it could only be one person. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by yellow hall light stood the small form of his closest friend. Lyric.
She was half faerie and half werewolf, her fey half making her immortal like himself, he'd met her ages ago and they'd been together ever since. Not romantically, but in a close friendship. He smiled at her softly and held out his hand to grab hers and pull her to the bed. "Well I
was asleep." He said, answering her question. "But that's okay. Come on Mutt." He teased and patted the spot next to him with a smile.
He knew she was afraid of storms and every time there was one, he let her sleep with him. Not sexually, just for comfort. Once she was laying down next to him, he wrapped his arms around her and sighed. She was naturally cold, being more fey than werewolf, and he was naturally warm, being completely werewolf.
Emmanuel looked down at her with a smile. "Better?" He asked into the darkness, feeling completely at ease as he silently wondered if everyone else was awake yet. Werewolves rarely slept through storms.
Little did he know life for him and his pack was about to be flipped on it's ass in the manor of an hour.