Baron's Story

The following morning...

Jason woke with a groan as he sat up on the cold cement of the cellar floor. He ached all over but he was alive, and the festering wound on his arm was little more than a faint scar.

He looked around the dim room in time to be hit in the face by a pair of balled up denim jeans.

"Get dressed," Baron told him through the open door of the cell.

"Gee thanks..." Jason told him.

"How are you feeling?" Baron asked.

"Tired... sore. Starving."

"The first time can really take it out of you," Baron explained.

A shirt hit Jason in the face next, draping almost comically over his head.

"Hurry up, we'll get you something to eat," Baron told him before heading on back upstairs. This time he left the doors open for Jason to come on up also once he was ready.

---

Jason was met with the cheers and light shoulder claps from the pack members as he made his debut into The Den, as one of them.

"You're hard as nails, you know that?" Julienne teased.

"Good to see you up," Carlisle added as he ruffled the lad's hair.

Jason grinned sheepishly at all of the attention was receiving as he was practically shoved/guided towards the bar and plopped down on a stool where two plates of steaming food was slide over to him. Bacon, eggs, toast, ham, pancakes, french toast... the aromas mingled together into something irresistible as he started shoveling food into his mouth with a fork.

"This is amazing, I didn't think food could ever taste this good," he managed around mouthfuls of food.

He was famished, enough so that he didn't even notice that Baron had departed.

The following night...

Julienne found Baron down in the cellar where he was seated on a stool with one foot propped up on an empty wine cask, smoking a cigarette.

"What's going on?" she asked him. "You haven't said a word to anyone in two days."

Her eyes caught notice of the half empty bottle of whiskey next to him and her idle curiosity turned to a frown.

"What happened?" she asked.

He didn't answer for several minutes as he took another drag of his cigarette and Julienne finally turned to head back upstairs before he finally said anything.

"Jason has Lunentia."

Julienne stopped, a hand on the railing of the steps. "... you can't know that. It's too soon to know that."

Baron shook his head and took another drag. "I saw it in his eyes the other night. I looked into them, and there was nothing there."

"I don't believe that. He's a good kid, we've all seen that. We'll get him through this," Julienne replied.

"And will you be the one to put him down when he hurts someone?" Baron asked sharply.

"We can lock him up-"

"For how long, Julienne? You know it's only a matter of time before the sickness takes his mind."

She had no retort to that and she turned and went back upstairs without another word.

Two months later...

"Yeah yeah... I'm going, I'm going," Jason said as he descended into the cellar.

Julienne followed at his back giving him a playful shove.

"If you don't get your ass moving, I'm going to wipe the floor with it," she told him with amusement.

The sun was setting, and the full moon had the skin along her arms prickling with anticipation of the nights run. The full moon had a way of drawing the wolf in all of them out, even those who had mastered their ability to change forms. For those who hadn't, the process could be a rough ride.

"I might like that too much," he told her with a wink.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a shove into the cage so she could close the door behind him.

"Keep it in your pants, kid," she told him.

"When will I be able to run with you guys?" he asked as he stripped his shirt off.

"Just as soon as you can learn to control yourself when the change is on you," she explained. "I'll come let you out in the morning."

"Don't forget me down here," he called after her as she headed for the steps.

"Forget what?" she called.

"You're a bitch, you know that?" he yelled back.

"You know it," she yelled over her shoulder.

She left him to the cellar alone, and he could feel the change nearing. It wouldn't be long now.

2 weeks later...

Baron was down in the cellar working at one of the cage doors with a welding gun where a rusty hinge had given out the other week. He hadn't gotten the time to come down and fix it, but after Jason had nearly gotten loose last full moon it needed to get done.

With the welding helmet on and the sparks flying from the hinges of the gate he didn't even hear Julienne shouting for him upstairs until the door banged open.

"Baron!"

He turned the welding gun off and lifted the face shield of the helmet as he turned around. Julienne looked aghast as she stood at the head of the stairs and was holding one hand over several long rends in her left arm.

"What happened?" he asked as he put the gun down and took the helmet off.

"It's Jason, he changed. I tried to follow him but I lost his trail when he crossed into Luskonios. He's out there somewhere, alone," she blurted out. Her face was pale, and the rends in her arm deep as blood dripped steadily from where she was gripping at the wound with her hand to slow the bleeding.

"Get yourself cleaned up and stay here," Baron told her as he started shedding his clothes even as he took to the stairs.

"What? No I'm coming with-"

"You'll stay here," he growled.

His words turned to the throaty snarl of a wolf as he fell to all fours, his body contorting until it was a wolf that bounded up the final steps. He shoved the door open with his snout and took off into the city in search of Jason.

5 years ago...

Baron's lungs burned with the heat of his exertion as he barreled through the city, and his tongue lolled from his panting jaws as he closed in on the sound of gunfire in the distance.

He had picked up Jason's scent a few blocks ago, and the sound of gunshots had spurred him on even as shouts of surprise followed in his wake. Werewolves where a normal enough part of the city, but most of them kept to Vargeras, and having one come tearing through Luskonios was something that they didn't see every day.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins but his heart sank as the gunfire fell silent, but he pushed on towards where he had last heard the shots. His sprint slowed to a lope when he cut down a side street as he caught sight of a figure moved towards him, and as he drew closer Baron's steps fell to a walk and his lips curled into a low growl at the figure carrying Jason. The stench of blood filled his nostrils, but the lad's chest still rose and fell.

Baron's fur rippled and receded as he shed his wolfish form, and a few minutes later a man was crouched in the street.

He stood and walked towards the figure.

"What happened," he growled out.

"Riddled with silver", Bowen said with some difficulty through clenched teeth. The smell of blood was thick and it was hard to tell but Bowen thought he detected similar scents that could only indicate a pack relation. The boy was not the only one who had been shot

"You know him then? Take him. I been shot just a bit less than him." The boy lay across Bowen's back and both were drenched in a mixture of each other's blood. Bowen's one free hand was used to prop himself up against a rusted garbage dumpster, his other arm threaded over the boy's leg and grasping one of his wrists to allow him the free arm and balance of the load.

As Baron came forward to take the boy from him he would speak again. "The boy was on a rampage. A hunter of Ardelean tried his best to put him down."

Baron took the weight of boy from Bowen, lowering him on the pavement to lean Jason's back against the dumpster.

"I'm sorry," Jason gaped through bloodied lips.

"It's alright, it's not your fault," Baron told him.

He gripped one of Jason's bloodied hands in his own while holding the back of the lad's neck with his other hand. "Everything's going to be alright," he told the lad as he rested his forehead against Jason's.

The boy's breathing was wet and labored, and Baron knew well the folly of taking him to a hospital at this point. Even if he pulled through this, it wouldn't cure the insanity that would slowly grip him until there was nothing left of the lad's humanity.

"Just get some rest. Everything will be fine."

It didn't take long for the boy to draw his final breath and for Baron to speak to the stranger.

"The Ardelean are butchers," he growled. "He didn't choose this."

"No one chooses their lot in life", Bowen said through his teeth as he ripped his shirt and fashioned a makeshift bandage in an attempt to stop the lifeblood draining from his left leg. He could feel the bullet sizzling inside his flesh, reacting to his blood. The pain was excruciating but nothing compared to some of the things he had experienced during his life.

"If you want your revenge the hunter...", Bowen said and then let loose a deep growl as he applied pressure to the wound and cinched the bandage. "... he had a purple hat and duster."

Baron hoisted the boy up over his shoulders and stood back up with a grunt. The kid hadn't had any family when Jason had first found him, and he was intent on taking him back to the only family he had known these past few months.

"What's your name?" Baron asked.

"Bowen is my name." He stood straight then and stretched out a hand covered in blood, the blood of Jason and his own.

"Baron."

It was the only response Baron offered as he turned to leave.

The fight was short, and brutal. Blows where landed by both as they exchanged holds and grapples to try and subdue the other while ribs and faces absorbed the jarring impacts of fists. Marc had size and weight on his side, and the advantage seemed in his favor, until Bowen ended it with a decisive strike.

The crack of bone was audible even over Marc's shout of pain and anger. The damage to the knee was furthered as he came down hard on it, adding the impact of his own weight to the already damaged joint.

It drew more sounds of pain that he bit off through clenched teeth as he held himself up on the edge of a pool table.

With Marc down though, there was no one to keep the rest at bay. Bowen would find himself alone, in a bar full of hostile wolves that were weighing up the risk of moving in on him.

Baron's return from his run likely couldn't have been timed better as the massive black furred wolf shoved the door open to pad inside. He threw his head from side to side, a warning glance to anyone thinking of continuing the confrontation. His steps stopped beside Marc as he took in the situation. Two of his wolves where down, with Snow atop one of them and a piece of broken glass discarded on the floor beside them.

His fur rapidly receded and Baron stood up from the floor.

"What's going on here?" he demanded.

"Marc and Bastien bit off more than they could chew," Vanessa bit out. "That's what happened."

The wolf holding her restrained let her go now that it seemed that the fight was over and she brushed her arms off indignantly.

Baron was well aware of Bastien's behavioral problems, and Marc's unwillingness to pass up a fight, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to sort out what was going on.

"Get them to the hospital," he stated bluntly.

A couple of onlookers moved in to help Marc and Bastien to their feet and from the bar.

Snow stepped back from Bastien as Baron intervened, and moved to slip back to his seat in the crowd. He wanted little part in anything that was to come next. Baron's business with this newcomer was his own.

Unless otherwise addressed, he simply took his seat and ordered another drink. It was over, and time to go back to solemnly brooding.

He turned to Vanessa as she laid blame and then to Snow as he returned to his seat in the crowd. Bowen fixed his collar and yanked his shirt free of his pants as it had been neatly tucked in before and the tussle with Marc had pulled half the fabric free already.

Though he had seemed to be enjoying the fight as it happened caught by the slight and subtle smirk at the corner of his lips. This had been a ruse to infuriate his attackers and a reaction of his own self confidence. Now that the fight was over there was not a hint of it remaining. After Marc and Bastien were pulled to their feet and then helped out of the bar Bowen would speak softly to Baron.

"I need a word with you concerning Ardelean.", said Bowen in a soft tone and with a serious look on his face.

Bowen gave no apology for the damage done to Marc or Bastien as he felt he had nothing to apologize for and to do so would only show weakness. On the flip side he did not necessarily expect an apology from Marc, Bastien, or anyone else as to apologize for one's nature or someone else's actions would be foolish. It was the rule of the strong, common in many packs he had encountered, something he was intimately familiar with, and something that was sometimes at odds with the world as it got smaller and society became kinder and gentler. In many packs this was the case and he had experienced it first hand from his birth into the world and again when he first howled to the moon. He had not always been the lone wolf he was today. His long since dead liege was not the last to betray him.

Even as Bowen informed Baron of his need to discuss matters with him, Vanessa approached him as well.

"Carlisle and Julienne are downstairs," she told him. "It looked like there was some trouble out in the streets."

Baron grabbed his clothes from the floor where he had discarded them earlier.

"Downstairs with me," he told Bowen as he headed for the cellar door.

"You too," he added as he looked to Snow before he started down the steps.

It was easy to mistake Snow for a kid, but truth be told he hadn't been a kid for some time now, and he proved that tonight. It was more than that though. He had shown an initiative and a willingness to enforce, and he hadn't succumbed to the pack mentality that often gripped their kind. He had a good head on his shoulders and a touch of morality that was needed if a pack was to maintain its humanity. It was time he started treating the kid like an adult.

The invitation for Snow to join Baron in speaking among the senior pack members was a first.

Snow looked up with surprise as Baron spoke to him, before quietly nodding his head. He rose from his seat and moved to follow him downstairs.

A small part of him was envisioning what Max's reaction might have been. He wondered if his friend would have been clapping him on the back or if his bitterness about not being turned would have made this into a point of contention.

There was no use dwelling on it now, though. Max was gone. He made his way down the steps.

Present day...

Baron descended down the steps, pulling his clothes on as he went.

"What happened?" he asked as he reached the cellar.

Julienne was laying on her stomach on one of the cots while Jesse swabbed the bits of metal that had grafted to her flesh. A small tray of tools sat on a chair next to him and he retrieved a scalpel and a pair of tweezers to begin the tedious process of removing the metal from her flesh.

Carlisle meanwhile was seated on the second cot waiting his turn when Baron reached them.

"We ran into trouble on the way back. Elliot didn't make it. A man - or machine really - pulled a knife on us. There was another, on the rooftops somewhere, but I didn't get a look at him. We were blind-sided. I didn't smell wolf, I don't think it was a rival pack."

"Fuck me," Julienne hissed through grit teeth as Jesse pulled one of the metal shards from her skin and dropped it into a metal tin on the floor next to the cot.. "I hadn't smelled or seen anything like it before. It wasn't human. It looked like a robot of some sort-" she broke off as she bit out a string of expletives as a second piece of metal joined the first in the tin.

"She's right. I have no idea where it came from. A new weapon of the Ardelean Society maybe?" Carlisle said.

"It's possible, but we need more information before we jump to conclusions. Snow, I want you and Julienne to head out after Jesse is done here. You two are our best trackers. Don't engage it, but I want to know where it came from. If it's Ardelean, they've finally gone too far."

Snow nodded his head with a solemn grimace. "We'll find it." he said, watching as the shards of metal clinked into the tin. "But what of the other attacker? Could you tell if they were working together?"

He thumbed the knife sheathed on his leg. He didn't know what use it would be against a machine. If he had time to back to his apartment... no, there wasn't time. And if all went to plan, they wouldn't need to be exchanging blows with it.

Bowen had smelled it when Julienne and Carlisle had stumbled in the door. "White phosphorus.", he muttered to himself. If they looked to him he would speak louder. "White phosphorus. Lucky they only caught the shrapnel. Its that garlic smell that catches at the back of the throat and that burned-out match tang that lingers in the back of your nose that gives it away. Whoever did this is well armed and well funded. Its not exactly easy to refine the materials in mass enough for weapons.", he offered.

"Speaking of Ardelean, they have been quite active as of late. I myself have noticed I had a tail from time to time." He meant no pun when he said this. "This is what I wanted to speak to you about. I would also be more than happy to accompany your wolves to the scene if it means I can get some answers.", he said and motioned to Baron, making it perfectly clear that he was speaking to him.

"No. This is pack business," Baron replied. "We take care of our own."

It wasn't uncommon for many of the Lutetian packs to be resistant to working with people who weren't their own, and this was no different for Baron and the Bloodstone pack. This mentality was especially strong among those born to this lifestyle. A life-long immersion into a culture as territorial and aggression fueled as theirs left one loathe to trust anyone that wasn't pack.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the breast pocket of his shirt before lighting one up and tossing the half-empty pack on top of an empty wine cask.

"If the Ardelean are behind this attack, they'll be made to bleed as we have," he stated simply. "If they where acting alone, we'll take care of it."

He took a drag of the cigarette and leaned against a wall near the stairwell while the others in the cellar left them to discuss their business.

Bowen could understand if he felt and called the current situation 'Pack Business'. He had almost expected this stance from the Bloodstone pack leader. What he did not expect from Baron was the lack of weight Baron gave his words. He was not especially emotional about the response but to say he was not disappointed by the amount of thought Baron put into his decision would be a severe miscalculation.

He had told Baron that the enemy he hunted was well armed and well funded. He had indicated that the person responsible likely used weapons that many in the pack were not familiar with. One of his pack had already been killed and the assailant had forced two others to flee. Bowen showed no outward emotions. He nodded sagely and spoke quietly. "Very well."

It hadn't taken them long to reach the Phantom Quarter once they picked up Jesse out by Cornell's, and Baron's car bounced roughly along the decrepit streets and potholes of the Phantom Quarter.

It had rained again last night and the putrid stench of the Quarter was thick in the air.

"There," Jesse said as he pointed over Baron's shoulder at somewhere up ahead. "Pull over there."

Baron edged the car up to the side of the road and put it in park as he removed his seat belt and got out.

Jesse let himself out of the back seat and headed over to rusted out dumpster where he had left his clothes the night before. Crouching down he all but gagged. They smelled like a latrine, and were thoroughly saturated from the rains which had served to absorbed the rancid odors of the Phantom Quarter.

Worse yet, they had been disturbed from where he had left them behind the dumpster and a quick search of the pockets turned up that both his cellphone and his wallet where gone.

"Well, this is revving up to be a great day..." Jesse muttered as he stood up. "Alright, it's down this way," he added as he pointed them off in the direction he had first heard the woman's scream.

Ivan kept his hands at his belt, watching the two men for a moment. He wasn’t here to observe, or make pithy comments, so he kept his gaze straight ahead, ran his thumbs across leather, and refrained from asking why the hell Jesse’s clothes were out here.

Once they reached the site of the attack Jesse pointed out the refuse heap where he had found the woman.

“This is where she was attacked. I caught sight of it briefly, over that way. It was only a glimpse though, I couldn’t make much out. I probably should have gone after it, but the woman was in bad shape,” he explained. “The way she described the attack… we might be looking at sadist. It was almost like he was drawing it out to torture her more. And he could have killed her had he wanted to. Even if he heard or smelled me coming and took off, it wouldn’t have taken more than a second to finish the job.” He shook his head. “It looks deliberate, and like he wanted her to live.”

Baron crouched down where Jesse had indicated the woman had been attacked. Unfortunately the rain had washed the blood away, and he couldn’t get a scent over the rancid stench of the Quarter. Everything smelled of decay, and it overwhelmed any minute odors that might still remain.

Ivan took his time, glancing around them, looking for potential threats. When he didn’t see anything, he glanced towards where the attack took place, frowned down at it.

Crouched down near the pavement, put a finger to a crack. The paved stone was still fresh, still recently broken, far away from being worn down and smoothed out by weather and sun and heat.

“Hit her with force,” he grunted, rising and pointing at the crack with the toe of his shitkicker, “means it’s big or strong. It drew the attack out how?”

Wasn’t his place to ask, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“She said it held her down, and taunted her. Said it was laughing. There were a lot of superficial wounds on her arms before it bit her,” Jesse explained. “She was pretty shaken up but she seemed to remember it pretty clearly.”

Baron frowned and stood.

“I can’t smell a thing through this shit,” he muttered. While he mulled the matter over he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his coat to light one up. Smoking wasn’t exactly helpful with the olfactory senses either, but he wasn’t going to be able to pick up a scent here anyways.

“What kind of… who hits someone this hard,” Ivan said, pointing to the crack again, “and takes the time to laugh or whatever? Looks more like a hit and run than torture to me.”

"This is the third one in four months that we know about..." Baron growled out. "I'm starting to think we're dealing with a rogue mongrel. It's too controlled for lunentia," he remarked with a frown. "If we have a rogue wolf loose intentionally inflicting people at the doorstep of our territory, it's going to have the police crawling all over Lupaix," he said. "Ivan, I want you to head a search of the Quarter. If there's any wolves out here, I want to know about them."

It was a peculiar move on Baron's part to request Ivan take point on this, as he normally would have given his brother, Ragenard, the job.

Ivan rose to his feet, brows lifting, the scar separating the white of his eyebrows shining in the light.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Baron answered.

Ivan gave Baron a pointed look. “You’ve got lieutenants who’re bound to be experienced.”

"Ragenard's gone, Elliot's dead, Jac's in the hospital," Baron answered. "Unless you think Bastien's the one for the job," he added pointedly. Ivan knew full well how accommodating Bastien could be to non-pack. "Or Julienne perhaps?" he added with an arch of his brow as he took a drag of his cigarette. The woman had a temper well renowned among the pack. "You're new, you know what it's like out there alone. You'll show restraint where they won't. Come on, let’s get out of here, we’re not going to find anything of use here." He discarded his cigarette into a puddle as he turned to head back towards the car.

Ivan watched as Baron left, then turned to look at Jesse, raising his eyebrows.

“Didn’t get a good look at it?”

“Nothing but a glimpse of shadow,” Jesse answered with a grimace before watching Baron make his way back to the car. “Did he say Ragenard’s gone?”

Apparently it was news to Jesse too.

Ivan didn’t respond, just watched Baron go. After a moment, he glanced towards the crack in the pavement, scuffed at it lightly with his boot.

“Let’s go,” Ivan said, following in Baron’s footsteps.

A few minutes later the car pulled away to head back towards Lupaix.

The door to the room banged open and Baron didn't even make an effort to keep his distaste from his expression, or his voice. He had been trying to get a hold of Jean-Pierre for two days now without any luck, and he had finally resolved to simply come find him and drag his ass out of whatever whore house he had been occupying his days with.

It hadn't taken him long to locate the man.

At his back was a distressed woman trying to tell him that he couldn't go in there right now, but he paid no mind to her feeble attempts to dissuade him.

"Do you ever check your phone?" Baron asked Jean-Pierre. "Get dressed, we have work to do."

Baron was in his usual seat by the dingy window talking on his cellphone when Ivan arrived. He gave him a brief 'come here' nod, a subtle signal that he wanted to speak to the man in just a moment.

"Are you hurt?" he asked into the phone.

He paused as he listened to a voice on the other end.

"And the woman?"

He listened a time more before nodding subconsciously, even though whoever was on the other line couldn't see it.

"Alright, I'll be over in about fifteen minutes. I want you to show me where it went down."

He hung the phone up and dropped it in his pocket before stubbing out a half-finished cigarette into a tray on the table.

"Hey, Ivan. You busy?" he asked.

As per usual when the leader of the pack signaled, Ivan tensed, his body coiled and waiting for a surprise - a nasty one. His trust of the werewolves was still lacking, even after months under their protection. Despite the fact that the leader of the pack had been nothing but cordial - even friendly - towards Ivan since he'd come aboard, Ivan still searched for cobwebs in the ceilings, feeling like the entire thing was a little too good to be true.

"No," the bigger man said, as he made his way towards the pack leader, standing with his hands awkwardly poised at his sides.

"Let's go then. There was a wolf attack out in the Phantom Quarter. Jesse thinks it was deliberate so we're going to check it out," he explained.

With Ragenard gone, Elliot dead, and Jac in the hospital with a busted knee, Ivan was his next best bruiser. If the culprit was still lurking in the Phantom Quarter, he would want the extra body on hand.

"We'll swing by Cornell's to pick up Jesse, and then head over."