Jesse Allard's Story

Jacques gave a half amused smirk as he continued wiping at his glass. This man was cocky, he would give him that. But he was setting himself up for an ass beating from the look of the others giving him the eye. He certainly wasn't going to intervene on the man's behalf. He didn't owe this stranger a thing.

Though what came next likely saved Bowen the trouble of dealing with a bunch of territorial wolves.

The front door swung open and a man and a woman entered, unclothed and with their exposed flesh peppered with what appeared to be small shards of shrapnel. Only instead of piercing the body and bleeding, it looked as though they had been grafted to the body leaving it blistered and red.

"Jesse, we're going to need you downstairs," Carlisle told one of the younger looking individuals that was currently engaged at one of the pool tables.

"Uh... sure thing," he answered as he passed his pool cue to one of the other players. "Everything alright?" he asked.

"No."

The remainder of the conversation would go unheard as the trio made their way down into the cellar.

Meanwhile a woman had sidled up into a seat next to Bowen. She was a young woman with auburn hair and coy smile.

"Tell you what, stranger. I'll get you that drink, and if you tell me a bit about yourself maybe I'll see about helping you find that man you're looking for," she offered as she signaled for Jacques to go ahead and poor the drink.

The tender didn't look none too pleased with her fraternizing with the stranger, but as long as one of the pack was vouching for him he went ahead and provided the requested drink.

The animalistic chuckling stopped when he noticed she was crying, but he did not loosen his grip.

She didn’t understand that he was helping her. She could help seize their time, rule their time, make their time last forever. Their spell was approaching, and he was doing her the kindness of involving her in their rise.

As she began to whimper he let out a booming roar to drown out her pathetic, hushed pleads. The sound carried far. But that didn’t matter, his job would be over soon, and then he’d be off before they stumbled upon this woman. And he hoped that they did. She needed to survive.

Her wriggling and writhing was growing more frantic so he called play time over. Arman snuffled his muzzle down to stop at the bend of her neck, leading into the straight plane of her shoulder, breathing in her scent as he did so. The wetness of his nose left a trail which chilled in the breeze as he prepared to strike.
His jaw opened. His terrible head jerked. His jaw closed.

Blood gushed into his mouth as he chomped into the soft flesh. His teeth caught her collar bone, digging into her neck and shoulder, cutting painfully through skin and muscle until he was certain he’d define it as a good bite.

Then he drew away – with some difficulty – and left the woman in her world of pain as he shot off into the night. A dark dart against an even darker backdrop.

He didn’t quite understand why people were so against his scheme. Some died. But an equal amount rose as something more, something better, something heavenly… Looking up as he fled the scene, Arman took in the moon and the stars, the witnesses to his sincerity. His powerful limbs took him away from the crime he had committed in good faith. The night rushed with him and he was engulfed by a sense of greater duty.

If only they could all feel like this.

She continued to sob even as his chuckling stopped. She thought maybe, just maybe she had finally won over the human side of this beast.

Until the booming roar that deafened her.

Her trembling became more violent as he bent closer to her neck and she tried to stop herself from crying out. Perhaps that was what was upsetting him? Soft whimpers came unbidden though, as she was not able to stop the sound now that she wanted to be silent. But that did not stop the werewolf's mission, it seemed.

Pain. Blinding pain shot stars in her eyes and she felt the guttural cry of agony wrench from her throat as Arman ripped through her flesh like a fresh butcher's knife. Eternity passed, but even as he let her go, the pain did not recede. Darkness surrounded the edges of her vision as she laid limp in the trash heap.

'I don't want to die..' She thought to herself. "H-help.." She choked out in a whimper.

Jesse caught a glimpse of Arman, but only just barely as he took off into the night, and his first impulse was to give chase, but the choked whimper of the woman drew him back. He hesitated as he looked in the direction that Arman had gone, and then back to the woman. Identifying her attacker would be a step in preventing this from happening to others, but likely at the cost of this one's life.

He mentally cursed himself as he wheeled back towards Re'Altarm.

Given the circumstances, the last thing she probably wanted to see was the face of a wolf pressed up against her own, but that's exactly what she got. Jesse sniffed at the wound with a low whine.

The bite was deep.

Re'Altarm reached up with the only arm she could move to feel the wound on her other shoulder. She drew her hand back to see the blood, sticky and red. Her eyes caught more movement, but before she could react, another wet nose was shoved into her face.

Her initial reaction was panic, but if he wanted to harm her, he would have already done so.

She didn't care one way or another if he wanted to finish off the job the other had started by this point. She reached out with her bloody hand, gently petting what fur she could reach. "P-please..." She whimpered tiredly. "H-help.. me.." She pleaded. 'I don't want to die...' The thought echoed in the fogginess of her brain. Tears ran down the side of her mud covered, blood stained cheeks.

Jesse whined and lay down with his head on her stomach to show that he didn't intend to hurt her. He needed to shed his form to tend her injuries, but it wasn't coming to him. He silently cursed himself for having shifted in the first place. After a minute he stood back up, trying to will his human form back, but nothing happened.

This was getting him nowhere...

He turned tail and headed back the way he had come, wishing he had some way to communicate to the woman that he would be back. When he returned he had his shirt in his jaws which he deposited on her shoulder, nudging her hand towards it with his snout trying to get her to apply pressure to the wound.

Her heart sank as she watched her only witness run away. She gritted her teeth, finding the determination to will herself to keep awake. Slowly she pressed into the wound, using the stinging pain it caused to bring her back to somewhat to awareness. She had survived on her own for this long, and so help her, she would make it through this too.

She was panting when the wolf returned with the shirt that it pressed on her shoulder. He pushed her hand back to her shoulder and for some reason, she got what it was trying to say. Pressing down on the wound with the shirt to try to hinder the bleeding, she hissed as the stinging continued. "G-good boy.." She murmured. "Good.. boy.."

With that seen to Jesse gave one more plaintive whine before he was off again, this time in search of help for the woman.

---

It had only been twenty-five minutes since Jesse had left Re'Altarm, but to him - and likely her as well - it seemed like an eternity. He could only hope she was still breathing.

He came barreling out of the dark with the sound of a vehicle approaching along the street and wasted little time in pawing at her to make sure she was still awake, and alive.

He whined lightly and lay back down with his head on her stomach again, a gesture to comfort her where he lacked the words to do so while he waited for Bowen to catch up.

A black sedan with a sporty profile and blacked out windows sat on a corner under a burned out street lamp. The occupant in the passenger seat was fast asleep, a black military style ball cap sat over his eyes and his boots set crossed out the passenger window. The driver was awake, her eyes scanning the street. A pair of binoculars sat on the dash with a small spiral notebook and a few pens, some missing their caps. In the center consul was a empty coffee cup.

She lit a cigarette which caused her companion to mumble. In response she opened her door, exited, and closed it. She walked away from the car and stood on the opposite corner of the street. "The delicate noses of the wolves...", she commented to herself before taking another long drag, exhaling though her nose and flicking the remainder of the cigarette into the street. It was a chilly night but warm enough that her light black leather jacket was enough to stay comfortable.

She glanced to the building they were watching. The woman who lived there had been raped by the head of a local gang and had received legitimate death threats. VINDEX had been asked to assist the Lutetia City police department with taking a few security details so that she would make it to the suspect's trial here in two days.

Jesse made his way down the streets which where fortunately mostly devoid of people this time of night. It meant he wasn't dodging pedestrians as he made his way for the den house.

Those that did see him likely mistook him for an over-sized dog, given his rather small stature compared to most of the werewolves in the area.

A familiar scent caught his nose as he passed the sedan and it wheeled him back about. He glanced back down the road in the direction he had been heading, but The Den was still several blocks away. A moment later he made his way back to the vehicle, jumping up to scratch at the window. Sure enough the man sleeping inside was the same one from the bar the night before. He didn't know the man personally, but Baron seemed to trust him well enough.

He whined and yipped, making noises that weren't quite wolf or dog before he dropped down and ran around to the other side of the vehicle where Bowen was sleeping and resumed the ruckus at his window as well.

Bowen stirred and his feet retreated into the car before the door opened. He let out a grumble even as the woman came around the corner of the car with a hand on the gun at her right hip. The two events happened at the same time but Bowen waved Chloë off while letting loose a rather exaggerated yawn. "I may be a wolf but I am not a mind reader and this is not an episode of the wolf whisperer."

Bowen would eventually turn to Chloë. He stood, shut the passenger side door, and walked around the vehicle to get into the driver's side. Bowen chucked a hand held radio to the woman as she came around to the driver's side. "Stay here. I will be right back." He opened the passenger door to let the wolf in. Expensive leather seats don't fair well against sharp werewolf claws. "Point your nose in the right direction." The car started to move off at a fair clip in the direction of the Phantom Quarter.

Jesse happily hopped into the car, and no doubt wasn't doing much for his reputation as a werewolf when he pawed at the button to open the window and left his head hanging out the passenger side window of the car. The wind on his muzzle and the smells that filled his nostrils... he could see why dogs liked doing it.

As they neared an upcoming road, he came to his feet whining restlessly until Bowen had turned down it.

His restlessness got the better of him as they pulled down one of the back roads where he had left the injured woman, and he scrambled and jumped from the window of the car before he took off down the street. He waited at the street edge to be sure Bowen hadn't lost him before he made his way back to where Re'Altarm was.

By this point, Re'Altarm was fading fast. She still held pressure on her shoulder, but even as she tried to keep herself awake by pressing harder into the wound, she could feel herself slipping into the darkness. She was still breathing, but in short spurts of breath. Her skin had taken an ashen color, and already fever had taken hold. Her hope of the werewolf returning had faded and at this point it seemed bleak for her.

'I don't want to die... Not now..'

Her eyes rolled open slowly as she felt the paws of the werewolf. A meek smile rose to her lips. Then she started to do something no one expected of her. She began to chuckle, a dry weak throaty sound. Most would think her gone insane.

'I'm gonna live, you bastard.. And I'm gonna come after you..'

Blaze was walking around, her head down, as she came upon a cafe, opening the door, she walked in and pulled a few bucks out of her pocket, went to the register and ordered a small coffee and took a seat, in a booth by the window. Sweeping around the room with her eyes, she sighed and took out her phone, placing it on the table beside her, looking out the window.

A few moments later and the sound of the vehicle's engine would vanish. A car door would open and slam. A man walked through the rubble and finally stepped far enough out of the shrouded darkness and close enough to Re'Altarm that she could see him. He scrambled forward to her. "Are you okay?", he said in a loud but calm voice and then leaned over her to place his right ear to hover over her nose and mouth while looking down the plane of her body. She was breathing and if she was breathing she had a pulse.

He did not need to see her wounds to know she was bleeding and bad. He cursed once and quickly scrambled back to his car. There was the sound of a trunk being opened and then slammed shut. He returned in haste with a large orange and black duffel bag marked with red crosses. It was then that he shined a bit of light on the situation. He placed the lit penlight in his mouth. His right eye was shut tight but his left scanned across her body as he moved his head and the beam of light. "Relax. Easy. Don't move." As he worked to stop the bleeding he asked her basic questions such as her age and her name.

Her right arm was so badly mangled that it required a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. After he had fashioned the device he haulted the bleeding at her shoulder. He then crossed her brow with her own blood in two strokes to form a 'T' more out of years of training than out of necessity in this instance. He un-pocketed his cell phone and hit a single key as he continued to evaluate her. "Yeah. Get me Barnes and Torres." There was a pause in his conversation as he took a closer look at her arm and the bones jutting out of it and through the dressing he had attempted to use to stop the bleeding before he applied the tourniquet. "I need you and Torres to meet me in the Quarter." There was another pause. "Use the car's Lojack." Then another short pause. "Bring a back board." One more pause. "Yep. Hurry up."

He pocketed the phone again and reached into the pack to take out some formable braces. A few seconds later and he was working to secure her right arm and the broken bits of bone that it had become. During the whole ordeal he continued to speak encouraging words.

It would seem that Jesse had stumbled across the right individual to help as Bowen not only displayed some measure of experience in treating wounds, but had emergency medical supplies in his trunk as well. For the time being though Jesse could do little more than lay there and watch, hopeful that it would be enough to save the woman's life.

He probably should head back he knew, since Baron would want to hear of a werewolf attack so close to their territory, but he opted for staying for now. He wouldn't be able to communicate a word of it to Baron anyways, not while he was stuck like this.

The sound of another coming to help was like music to her ears. She was going to be saved! More tears fell at the thought of living and due to the sudden brightness of the light. She smiled up at Bowen, who at that moment, looked like a saint or an angel to her.

But as he worked at her right arm, she hissed and whimpered and wished that he would just leave it alone. Every jolt was pure agony, but she was too tired to fight any longer. Still, her comfort came by merely petting Jesse. The words wouldn't come, but all she could think was 'Good boy...'. He wasn't a dog, she knew, but he looked too small to be anything but a wolf. Her strokes were short and more like pats anyway.

Her eyes began to droop though. Tiredness had long been taking over her, and sleeping sounded way better at the moment than dealing with the pain. "T-tired.." The word came out barely audible and sounded like more of her whimpers.

"Hey girl. Stay with me. Stay awake just a bit longer." He gently patted her cheeks and when she kept drifting off he rubbed her sternum hard with his knuckles sending new sparks of pain coursing across her chest and to her brain. He evaluated her in total now in his mind, pausing only briefly before pulling out a 1000 cc IV bag. He tore the outer bag open and connected the tubing and the drip chamber to the bag's administration port. "Stay awake for me. Stay with me.", he continued to repeat over and over again. She had lost too much blood. He needed to get some fluids into her or she would crash.

He prepared the catheter after temporarily tourniqueting her other arm and got a blood flash the first time. He pressed the catheter into her arm with his thumb while he taped it down and hung the bag on a nearby piece of rebar before connecting the tubing to the catheter and after clearing the air out of the tubing.

A moment passed as he moved up to her head and ran his fingers through her dirty, blood-matted hair. He then moved down her body, rapping his hands around her neck as if he were choking her but gently feeling around her neck and at the back before moving down her body and checking for missed injuries. The ground was so uneven that he could not risk turning her until the back board arrived least she have a spinal injury and he cause more damage. He could not raise her feet to stave off shock for the same reason. The only precautions he could take at this point was to keep her conscious and blanket her with his coat to keep her warm.

She did not have a head injury that he could tell. Her irises were even though she showed signs of serious shock. She was shivering in the cold and because of the blood loss. Five more minutes would pass until a black van pulled up. During this time Bowen would periodically glance up at the IV bag to make sure it was dripping and continuously take precautions to insure she stayed awake.

When Barnes and Torres got there they assisted Bowen in securing the girl to the back board and two of them carried her out, the third carrying the IV bag. They loaded her into the back of the van. It was no ambulance. It looked more like a small swat van on the inside. Their destination would be Cornell's where she would recieve the treatment she needed. Barnes would take the sedan to meet back up with Chloë. Bowen and the man he had called Torres would take the van and Re'Altarm to the medical center. She would indeed live.

Jesse stood up and moved out of the way as the men moved in to move the woman to the back board to carry her to the van, and he wasted little time in getting a running start to hop into the back of the van himself. He had no way to ask them where they were taking her, so he seemed intent on riding along to find out.

As the van began to move he lay down to keep from getting knocked around by the turns and bumps in the roads.

He had never met this woman before, but it was always different when you were first on the scene. It made him feel responsible in some way, as if it would be his personal failure if she didn't make it. It was an illogical way of thinking, but he would feel better once she was out of the woods.

They had arrived and Re'Altarm was still alive, still conscious. "Watch the van.", Bowen called up to Torres. He then hopped out the back and entered Cornell's. Two other men and a women came out and helped Bowen get Re'Altarm into the building. Bowen followed them inside and if Jesse wanted to remain with the girl then he should follow also. No comment was made about him being covered in blood. He un-crumbled a piece of VINDEX letterhead that he had pulled out of one of his pockets. While at the check in desk he hastily wrote a letter for the girl to receive should she survive. At the bottom of the page was a few drops of her blood, smeared by his sleeve as he signed his name.



Cornell's was kind enough to take his information to be billed. Apparently medical treatment was not free and this was a private medical center as in it was not state funded. Bowen would end up flipping the bill for his trouble. Such was life. He had made other donations to Cornell's in the past.

He gave the letter over to the woman behind the desk and asked that it be delivered should she survive. The woman nodded and he walked out the door to the van. Just a minute later Bowen was in the van and driving away from Cornell's.