The Den

Blaze watched as everyone seemed to leave her alone, she sat in a corner and began playing a game on her phone, watching and listening to her surroundings, she had never seen men or people in this kind of uniform.

Leon exhaled a long and drawn out breath. "Gonna have to excuse myself, babe, but don't go anywhere."

He stood abruptly, sliding his pistol from it's holster and aiming it towards Baron. "Now, whats going to happen here is you're going to take a seat while we take a look in your super secret play house down in the cellar. Got any objections? Just kidding, don't care, now sit your ass down."

Elodie had been set on ignoring that initial setback. In fact, she’d pulled up a seat next to the woman quite cheerily and was organising her thoughts to make another move, in a non-romantic way, of course. But her flirting and skirting was interrupted by a scream that made her hairs stand on end.

Her eyes had inevitably found their way to the doorway, along with most other pairs.
They then caught hold of the officer who was rightly demanding entrance.


“Truly, if everyone is being as honest as they claim about the incident that occurred last night, then there should be no reason for us to be denied access unless there’s something else to be hiding.” El got to her feet slowly, keeping her tone calm and careful. She was trying to make up for Leon’s crass behaviour in a pit full of the easily-angered. With this opinion, her hand was hovering dangerously close to her holster also. Though, the inhabitants of The Den were being reasonably cooperative, considering the circumstances. She doubted these most sentient of monsters would all be in on something abhorrently incriminating. Another explanation, she believed, she hoped.

She made for the door too.

Baron kept his hand pressed to the door as he stared Jeanne down, and she could almost see the amber hue of a wolves eyes fixed onto her own.

"This isn't what it's going to look like, she's here of her own decision," Baron told her.

His eyes flicked to Leon and Elodie, but with Leon's gun unholstered and leveled on him things where heating fast. Several of his pack where on their feet as well, but a scathing look from him was all it took to keep them stood down.

A shootout with the police would be disastrous for everyone involved.

And so he laced his hands behind his head and allowed Jeanne to pull the cellar door open. He didn't take the indicated seat though, and his jacket was open enough to leave his sidearm visible in its holster. As the officers converged on the cellar door, and Leon kept his gun trained on Baron, he kept his hands where they where. He didn't particularly want to give the officers reason to think he might reach for his weapon and give them an excuse to shoot him.

"You're making a mistake," he growled lowly as Jeanne moved past him.

Leon's pistol remained trained on Baron, catching the other wolves in his peripheral vision. "Whats up, you guys want to take a trip to the kennel too? Seems like a bad idea, they usually put down the old and ugly one".

He moved towards him slowly, stepping behind Baron and taking his wrists in his hand. He pulled Baron's hands down and behind him as he pressed the barrel of his pistol against the man's neck.

"Got any sharp and pointy's on yah? Best tell me now cuz if I get stuck, you best believe you'll be getting it to." He moved his hand away from Baron's wrists and shifted it down to the man's pistol, easing it away from him and into his own waistband. He began patting the man down.

He leaned against him, lips close to Baron's ear. "You've really done it now, bud. Hope your mutts like being strays."

Richard pulled his gun, but kept it pointed at the ground. He gave a warning glance to Leon. He really didn't like the guy.

"Stop running your mouth, Giroux," Richard spat at Leon. He directed his voice at the bar, "No one make any sudden moves!"

"You haven't got shit," Baron retorted as Leon patted him down.

Aside from the side-arm, he didn't appear to have any other weapons on him, and he endured the accosting through grit teeth. His first impulse was to knock the shit out of the little ass-wipe sneering at him, but the gun to the back of his neck kept him more or less compliant.

It didn't take a genius to see that the racist little shit would love nothing more than for Baron to give him an excuse to pull that trigger.

Meanwhile, as if to directly contradict Baron's words, Jeanne's voice crackled over Leon's radio, giving the order for Baron's arrest.

Richard listened to the radio without taking his eyes off the scene. He motioned toward the door and moved toward it. "Everyone outside! No pushing. No fighting. No sudden movements. Don't make this hard on yourselves. Get moving," he ordered, motioning toward the exit.

"Leon, try not to piss him off too much, yeah? You're not here to be an asshole," Richard commented as he tried to get everyone out.

Blaze was completely confused and lost, the Bar was the place she had planned on crashing at, since she had no home. "Well now I have nowhere to go tonight" she sighed and sat down on a bench outside the bar. She only knew two pack members, and trusted them. One was being arrested, the other was no where to be seen.

During the commotion, when the cops started springing into action, Ivan moved quickly.

He was around the bar counter right at the point guns started being drawn, his hands hidden behind the stick as he watched the sudden movements, how Baron was suddenly being patted down. His hands were quick, efficient. A cop yelled at him to get outside, and that was fine.

That was easy.

Flipping up the back portion of his coat, he did something to his waistband, tucked an object in the small of his back, under his belt, before letting the waistcoat fall over it, covering it.

He raised his hands, smiled a little as he came back around the bar, keeping his movements easy, unconcerned.

"Keep your shirt on," he told the lady cop as he started walking towards the door, one of his hands forming an "OK" signal to Baron as he caught the other werewolf's eye for a brief moment.

He just hoped that the dumb fucks running the joint kept the safety on.

"You hear that? Seems like we got somethin after all." Leon smirked, his head leaning slightly over Baron's shoulder and moving far too close to his face. He holstered his weapon.

"What's this? I asked yah if you had anything pointy on you" He moved his fist down the mans pant leg, opening it as he reached his pocket to reveal a switchblade and a thin silver colored chain. He dropped each in a small baggy and placed them onto the table. "You're under arrest" He removed a zip tie from his pocket, looping it around that man's hands and pulling it tight enough to dig into his skin. "Hows that feel, little guy? Too tight?" He gave it another tug before moving to lead the man out of the bar, free hand taking the bags.

Several days later...

As Chloe arrived from the cellar, she would find the bar filled with a number of the pack. Some familiar, some not.

Desmond was nowhere to be seen.

Most of them sat in chairs, or leaned on tables as if they had been engaged in conversation, while Baron himself was leaning against the bar counter.

Outside the bar more of the pack mingled on the street side, casually talking among themselves and making sure that passing people knew the bar was still closed for business today. The police had long since cleared out, but with Baron fresh out of jail on bail and a pileup of pack chaos waiting for him, he had opted to not re-open until tomorrow.

Baron watched Chloe a moment before he finally spoke.

"Until you can display an element of control over yourself, you're to continue working with Desmond once a week. And you'll run with the pack once a month," he told her. "Those are my conditions."

Chloe felt like a cornered rat. Seeing so many of the pack in one room, she was pretty sure she was about to be run out of Lupaix. Her heart began to race, but all she could do was give a steady gaze back at Baron.

If she was shocked it didn't show, but she did seem somewhat concerned. Running with a pack usually meant you were part of it. Never was a stranger to run with a pack, at least back in Wing City.

Still, she had said she would do anything to mend the broken relationship. She just wished she had Desmond there to make this easier. Swallowing her pride was always difficult for her.

"Fine." She said finally.

With her consent to the conditions given, he fished his phone out of his pocket before tossing it to Chloe, a gesture perhaps to let her make a phone call from it so she could have someone come pick her up, rather than walk through the city bare-foot.

Chloe reached out for the cellphone and caught it with both hands. It was obvious what Baron had intended her to do with this. She opened up the phone and bit her lip slightly, wondering who would be best to call.

Alphonse would probably be the best, as he was most likely out searching for her anyway. But as she went to dial the number, she remembered that she had only taken the time to memorize two numbers.

The VINDEX front desk and Bowen's number.

A knot tied in her chest at the thought of Bowen and how he would react as soon as she explained where she had been for the last few days. Still, it was better than having to direct it through Brittany, who would have told Bowen anyway.

"Might as well get this over with.." She murmured. Slowly, she dialed Bowen's number and waited for him to pick up, praying it would go to voicemail.

He picked up after three rings. "Bowen Davion speaking."

The knot fell to her stomach as soon as she heard his voice. "Bowen.. It's Chloe.." She murmured quietly. "I need to be picked up.."

"Of course. I will come and pick you up right now. Where are you and are you okay?", he asked with a degree of concern.

She took in a deep breath, and turned away from the pack. "I.. I'm fine.." She said quietly, sounding hesitant. "Y-you don't have to come get me personally if you're too busy to.." She murmured quietly. "I'm sure Alphonse can pick me up too.." A slight ray of hope would be there that he would agree to this, but somewhere in the back of her mind she knew Bowen wouldn't hear of it. She had been gone for more than 48 hours by this point without word of her whereabouts.

It had been far longer than just two days. It had been several days without word of her whereabouts. After Alek had been dealt with Bowen and everyone at Vindex had dropped every other case in their search for Chloe. It would not had been long and they would have been showing up at the Den anyway.

"Where are you?", he asked again. The concern on his voice was quickly evaporating.

Chloe closed her eyes and let her head sag forward slightly. Doing so caused her to shift in weight slightly, her ribs complaining. They hadn't fully healed she now realized, and Bowen could hear her breath catch on the other end.

She coughed to try to hide it. "I'm.. at the Den." She murmured finally. "Just.. Pick me up out front, okay..?"

There was a very long break in which he did not reply. The phone had gone silent. "Stay there. I am coming."

And now the knot in her stomach was full of butterflies. She caught herself on the door frame of the cellar leading down. She knew that silence. Perhaps he was still angry at her from the other day, and her recent disappearing act only made it worse.

"B-bowen.. I.." She bit her lip. "Alright.. I'll be waiting.." She responded and he hung up the phone.

Chloe sighed and hung up the phone as well, visibly trembling. This was not going to go well, she thought to herself. Slowly, she turned around back to Baron and handed him the phone back. "Thanks.." She murmured. "I guess I will be seeing you.. But I think.. It might be best I wait outside."

A pitch black coupe rolled up and parked on the other side of the street. Bowen stepped from the car, the engine still growling as he shut the door to cast his eyes up and then down the street, looking for Chloe. He clothing was so unlike what he normally wore. He wore jeans and a white t-shirt. A black button down hung loose upon his torso and upon his right hip in a holster was his pistol, the Browning hi power standard semi-auto.

The pack members that where hanging around out front of the building didn't seem to be paying Bowen too much concern. A few threw him glances, and Marc in particular threw him a rather dirty one, but the majority of them simply remained intensely watchful as he got out of his car.

Chloe was sitting at the end of the curb of the sidewalk, arms tucked and folded between her torso and her legs, her head down on her knees. She had been here for a while, hoping beyond hope that Bowen would not be angry with her. At the sound of the car door shut, she looked up, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering again at the sight of him. She also started to tremble once again.

Balling her fists up, she pushed herself off the curb and slowly walked over to Bowen.

He nodded to her. "Get in the car," he said without a smile when she got close enough to hear him.

She nodded, but looked up at him with concern. She rounded the front of the car, one arm going to cradle her injured side. She opened the door but hesitated, before sliding into the car.

Bowen opened his door once Chloe was safely in the car. A moment later and they were driving away from the Den.

Marc spat his distaste on the ground as the car pulled away before turning his attention back to the conversation with his pack mates that had monentarily ceased.

She’d tried her best, but Cass still managed to stick out from the everyday people who were wandering the streets. Activity was dwindling in the late afternoon; people were heading in from work, drifting into shops, bars… The day wasn't quite over, the night not yet begun.

Vargeras was by no means a clean cut place but her scrubbed smock and tatty scavenged boots drew her a few judgmental glances. She smelt better, too, her skin and hair clear of muck and smoother than they had been in a while. It had taken effort which she doubted would be appreciated.

To be walking in ordinary public without keeping to the shadows was odd. It had been years and years since she’d fit in or even been remotely comfortable when out and about in the normal world.

She knew where The Den was due to her previous gallivanting when first turned. She’d been trouble.

Cass entered with nothing to soothe her nerves other than the promise that the littles wouldn’t get hurt - and Seri’s presence.

The gathered pack members outside the bar gave her some appraising looks, and their eyes followed her as she made her way into the bar, but none of them moved to follow her in.

Inside, Baron had taken his usual seat by the window, and several others of the pack still remained. The bar was closed for business tonight, but most of the pack seemed to be lurking on or near the premise.

Desmond and Brendan where nowhere to be seen, but it likely wouldn't be difficult for her to pick Baron out as the one in charge. The way he watched her enter, and the way the others looked to him. It was like being watched by a wolf that was looking through the eyes of a man.

He took a long drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out.

"Talk," he told her.

Seri followed Cass into the bar with a suspicious eye to everyone and everything around them. The werecat was dressed just as - if not more - raggedly than she was, though he himself was as ever far cleaner than the majority of the denizens of the Phantom Quarter. Cats were, after all, hygenic creatures.

His golden eyes swept across the room's interior and landed on Baron. He kept silent, for the time being. He was uneasy, surrounded as they were - he liked to always know he had an escape route. But he had no such reassurances here, with the wolves outside. It was disconcerting.

Amongst the assembled pack members, Snow had a seat at the bar counter. He was nursing a glass of whiskey and watching Cass and Seri with contemplative but unthreatening eyes. As far as he was concerned, neither of them were an apparent danger, and so he simply watched and waited for them to speak. He'd heard only that they had information on the wolf attacks. Being busy with finding Sophia, he hadn't been keeping fully up to speed with the search there.

At one of the tables adjacent to Baron's, Nieve too was sat leaning casually back in her chair with her legs crossed. Her eyes were as wolfish as Baron's - but perhaps even more predatory. She regarded Cass with a small, almost imperceptible smirk. The woman looked weak, but perhaps that was to be expected for a makeshift pack from the Phantom Quarter.

Into The Den. Into the jungle.

Eyes everywhere; worse than the glances from outside. These stares were more informed.

The Phantom Quarter was far from rosy, but the smoke really got into her. A cough was already trying to escape but she cleared her throat to keep it at bay. Maybe she should’ve been grateful for the haze which was making it quite difficult to make out details with her already reasonably bad sight. There was a range to how she was being regarded; reproach, indifference, amusement. The men and women – the wolves – seemed like they were asserting their dominance in the situation.

There was no mistaking Baron. Leader of the pack.
Even Seri was subdued.

Cass’s head turned, a sweep of knotty hair and an evaluating expression. She didn’t like this. She didn’t trust this. But she was here by choice. So, she drew in a steadying smoky breath.

“What do you need to know?”

"Everything," Baron answered. "From the beginning."

He leaned back in his chair and propped one foot up against the seat of another chair at the table he was seated at. Calm. Relaxed. Un-threatened.

Cass’s lips twisted into a badly hidden scowl. She’d chosen her words carefully; need, not want. But she was in no position to deny him. His nonchalant behaviour did nothing but irritate her. She met Baron’s eyes with poise, anyway.

“My name is Cassandra. I’m the leader of the ‘pack’” she didn’t do so well at hiding her distaste of the term “in the Phantom Quarter. Not the nicest of places, I’m sure you know. We’re not there so much by choice… We’ve been there for a few years. And a couple of years back we gained a new member. Not like the others. We’re mainly young people. Children. Freshly turned. Outsiders.”

Her eyes flittered away some. “I think this is the person that led you to find us. His name is Arman. Good scavenger. He provided, protected. But a bad person. He… has wrong views about things. It all went too far. He wormed his way in by the time I realise- realised that he was turning people. I couldn’t shake him. Not completely.”

Baron studied her silently before he finally spoke again.

"You know his scent. Can you, or yours, track him?" he asked.

Seri wrinkled his nose. "He lurks down in the catacombs. Even he doesn't smell bad enough to be tracked down there."

Cass nodded curtly.

“We could try. But when you’re wallowing in so much nastiness there’s not much left unmasked.”

"We'll have to flush him out of the city," Baron concluded. "How many of yours are able enough for a hunt?"

“Four” Cass said, aware of how weak that made them sound. Her eyes narrowed.

Four ... and he could spare six of his own without risking leaving his territory undefended. It just might be enough Baron thought silently to himself...

"Then we'll join forces, and we'll hunt," he said.

Cass could almost see the golden hue of a wolf's eyes reflected intensely within Baron's own.

Though the bar hadn't yet opened for customers, several of the pack had already arrived for the evening and where engaged in a game of pool as Baron came downstairs.

Jeanne wasn't far behind him and he made his way to the bar where he fished out a bottle of whiskey and a glass to pour himself a drink.

Those at the pool tables threw questioning looks, and a few exchanged glances among themselves. They all thought it, but not a one said it out loud.

A cop? What the hell are you thinking.

He had no inclination to explain himself though and he took a sip of his drink.

"You want anything before you head out?" he asked Jeanne.

Jeanne only offered them a friendly smile in greeting. She wasn't afraid of a few pack members, having slept with their leader or no. The only people she was concerned about running into here were colleagues. Colleagues like Richard, who gave her shit for taking the side of the necromancers and werewolves who lived in this town. The few who sought to get her fired.

"Mm? Oh, no, no. I've got a long night ahead of me. But thanks." She smiled at him, too. Genuinely, toothily. "I'll see you around."