Neophyte / Adept (7 page)

“I haven’t told you the worst part,” I said.

“What?”

“In my dreams, there is this huge clearing, and we are
heading toward it––you, me, and someone else.”

“There aren’t very many clearings like that in Rome,” he
said.

“The trees are different. They’re not cypresses,” I told
him.

“Then where are we?”

“I don’t know. That’s the whole point, Ballard.” I couldn’t
keep the stridency out of my voice. “But there’s more. We’re in
wolf
form.”

“You mean you are?”

Ballard rocked back on his seat. We sat like that for some
time, just staring at each other. Nobody spoke.

Finally, Ballard broke the silence. “Have you had these
kinds of dreams before?” he said. “It almost sounds like you expect them to
happen
. To take place. Wait, you can’t,
like, see the future, can you?”

“I’ve had other dreams that I expected to come true,” I told
him. “Not that they ever have.”

“Whoa,” he said.

I nodded. “It was like I was really fast,” I said, recalling
the dream. “We were flying through the trees. We came out and we started
howling. I mean,
woofing
.”

“We need to talk to Gaven about this,” he said. “If you’re
having the Calling....”

I looked at him inquiringly.

“It’s what happens to werewolves before their first
transformation,” he said, correctly interpreting my look. “Good thing the
Council meeting is tonight. Gaven can catch you up on the Family origins. Hey,
what if we’re related? Maybe that’s why Risky had me find you. I don’t know. I
don’t know,” he said.

I didn’t tell him the bad part. That whatever was chasing me
was faster. That Ballard was meant to protect me... And that he kept throwing
himself into dangerous situations, in my dreams, in order to protect me....

* * *

We paid up, and left the small café. and got on our
motorcycles. And we just cruised through the city for a few hours. We couldn’t
go to wherever we were going until everyone got partied out, and went home.
Ballard wasn’t joking. It was like Vampire Night for mortals. Everywhere people
were going to dinner and the theater, and just strolling around, regardless of
the fact that it was way past their bedtimes. They would be making it up at
tomorrow’s siesta, no doubt, having stayed up all night.

Finally, the moon was breaking through the clouds, and we
were well past Midnight, and the sounds, though fewer, were more raucous––teenagers
on their last dregs, whispering excited words to each other, as they lived
lifetimes between hours. I among them. It had been a night for revelations.

I realized it wasn’t over. That, in a way, it would never be
over. That this night would be mine, and it would be going on for as long as
forever, for as long as I still burned for some inward heavenly thing: secrets,
and truths, and dreams.

The onset of the Agonies was not unlike this ‘Calling’
Ballard had expressed to me; maybe I
was
being called. To what I did not know. It didn’t seem important to me just then.
The inexpressible pursuit had ended for now. I was with Ballard and we were
young and free, and whatever problems we had were in the past.

I decelerated and said, “You can’t be serious.”

The place we had arrived at was the most famous place in
Rome. The light turned green and we accelerated through the empty night street
to a mammoth colosseum––It was
the
Colosseum, and it was where the meeting was going to be taking place, the Wolves’
Council I wasn’t entirely sure I was invited to.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Ballard. “They’re expecting you,
aren’t they? You’re invited, remember?”

I couldn’t think why. It was a huge lighted edifice I had
seen a thousand times before, but never in person. It looked like a giant war
god had struck the side of the Colosseum with his cudgel and caused half the
oval-shaped exterior to crumble in. A million lights lit up the outer walls,
the archways golden-hued, staring out at us like eyeballs. Very watchful and
alert eyeballs.

Spiked gates blocked off the entryways the length of the
perimeter, preventing would-be visitors entering the Colosseum. It was
definitely closed to the public. There was no way we were getting inside, were
we?

Chapter 7
– Wolf Tales

I whistled. The gates were high up. I couldn’t see a way in.
The Colosseum was like an impenetrable fortress. Ballard put his hands on the
smooth stone surface of the Colosseum archway blocking our way inside. “These
are Doric,” he said, unnecessarily, indicating the columns.

The façade was made of travertine, which I already knew. It
was hard not to imagine Lennox and I having been inside already. I couldn’t
understand how werewolves, even a whole pack of them, could contend with a
single vampire.

Ballard told me to wait a second. I watched in amazement as
he threw himself bodily into the air. He was over the fence in seconds. It
happened so fast I couldn’t believe it. One second he was standing there, the
next he had vaulted himself over a dozen feet above me.

He landed effortlessly on his feet, avoiding the spikes.
“Okay that was amazing,” I said, my mouth hanging open.

He smiled, and began looking for a way inside. I followed
along as we circled the length of the building. I saw other motorcycles lined
up. I Gatti was definitely here all right. “So how long have you known,
Ballard, that you were a w-werewolf?” I said.

He let out a derisive snort.
“Lia.
She didn’t even tell me,” he said.

“You mean you had to find out on your own?” I wanted to
understand.

“It’s complicated,” he said. He found an opening between a
gate that had been locked off with a steel chain. “If I...”

Ballard’s muscles tensed. I watched as he pried the gate
open slowly. The links in the chain began to stretch slightly. It was just
enough for me to squeeze through.

Ballard could bend steel.

The exertion had cost him slightly. I could see beads of
sweat standing out on his forehead, as I made my way through. He brushed them
away and wiped his hands on his pants. “Shall we?” he said. I followed after
him.

The Colosseum was an intricate structure of internal
corridors and tunnels that led to the actual pit where gladiators had fought.
We were on the ground floor. Below the structure was a hidden clockwork of chambers
the Romans had used to stage contests. Ballard and I walked into the heart of
the Colosseum, and it opened before us.

It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Ringed around
us were multiple levels where spectators had watched everything: from fights to
the death, to sea battles, and even lions and tigers Roman huntsmen had
imported from faraway lands.

If it could awe, it was staged.

Two thousand years had weathered it until the stones
themselves were rounded and a thick layer of moss clung to everything. The
starlight overhead shone into the Colosseum, and I heard voices, in the
darkness of the pit below.

Ballard’s family was gathered there, waiting for us. I saw
faces that swam out of the dark. Young men and women all in their early to late
twenties. I longed to see a transformation. Ballard, as a sixteen-year-old, was
quite exceptional.

So far as I knew, no one over thirty was a part of the
street gang known as I Gatti. There had to be a reason, didn’t there?

All told, some thirty shapeshifters were present, still in
their human forms.

I trailed after Ballard as he hopped gracefully to the floor
below. We had to walk across the grassy and wet stone turf, after he helped me
down, through a forest of Stonehenge-like structures, all missing their tops.
Dripping moss clung to them.

There were chambers that dead-ended, and rounded, curved
stone walls. High above was the seating area. The bodies of the werewolves swam
into focus in the semidarkness below. Lia was among them.

I could tell her by her long, dark hair, and shining eyes.
There seemed to be an unanswered question in them every time we met.

I recognized Paolo and some of the others, most of whom I
knew only by sight, never having been properly introduced.

These were the werewolves! The weredogs of Rome! Ballard
raised his arms, in greeting, and we were quickly being passed through
murmuring, dark bodies, all saying their hellos––the late hour
would turn to leaden sky before the night was through.

Torchlight was kindled in a makeshift pit, and we circled
around a bowl of it. I tried to feel a kinship to the
werewolves––to walk in their skin––but mostly I was in
awe. They could be a formidable army, if they chose to be.

Something similar was on Gaven’s mind.

He strode into the fire circle, a tall, imposing figure, and
his shadow was thrown a hundred times as large upon the Colosseum itself.
Everyone shut up. The murmuring went out like a candle flame. He acknowledged
those present and they nodded back. I didn’t know what to do.

“We have a new member tonight,” he said. “His name is
Ballard.”

“Welcome Ballard,” said the group, in low, mournful tones.

Ballard didn’t know what to do, either

“And a guest,” said Gaven. “Halsey Rookmaaker.”

Gaven dipped his head to mine, and I returned the gesture.
The faces in the gathering briefly turned to me. I caught sight of Lia. She was
smiling at me. Gaven went on.

“We have come here tonight to speak about troubling things.
A celebration is gathering the likes of which we have never seen before. As you
may or may not know––” again he inclined his head to me
“––Rome is the seat of werewolf-kind, and has been so for a very
long time. Now we are under attack by an enemy we no longer by rights can
pursue openly. I am speaking of course of vampires. Members of a society so
secret that their true dimensions are unknown to even the wisest of
us––werewolves who have spent their entire lives protecting the
city, and routing out these blood drinkers...”

There was some angry murmuring around the group.

“To speak nothing of the witches and wizards who are even
now flocking in from all four corners of Europe. Their craft-magic is kept
secret from us. Our own Lia, and Halsey herself, have been invited to attend,
and
study
with them––if
they will. I want to stress to each of you:
caution
,”
said Gaven. “Vampires have their bloodstock––human beings who have
been selected for termination. Which is why we have been purging this city, yet
back they come again.”

“Parasites,” said a member of I Gatti, a male I didn’t know.
There was some arguing back and forth: some seemed to think that we should give
them a chance, others that the vampires could not be trusted. Gaven circled the
firepit, his shadow doing interesting things, as the flames flickered, and I
listened to what they were really on about.

“I know four vampires,” I said. They turned to look at me.
“Three of them I would trust absolutely.”

“And the fourth?”

Involuntarily, I felt to my breast; I could feel the
outline, there, where Marek’s vampire embrace had caused a light scarring. Two
permanent reminders of what happened when I let one get too close.

A faint crescent outline was at my throat, the shape of one
of the Three Protectors, if I was to believe what Infester had told me, and
that Marek was one of the chosen three, destined to watch my back. But that
would have to make me Her, this Super Bitch, as I had heard her referred to in
the past, this nebulous female warrior with some kind of destiny, whatever that
might be.

Gaven was waiting for a response. I saw him, a proud male
warrior, standing there with only good intentions––but he didn’t
know... He didn’t know how
sweet
vampires could be; and how they looked after me, with their heart and soul.

Somewhere Lennox was undergoing a life-altering experience,
and I couldn’t see him, I couldn’t see him at all. I didn’t even know if he
would be the same Lennox if I ever saw him again. He couldn’t be, could he?

That was the definition of a life-altering experience.
Change.
These werewolves certainly had
changed.

Again, I was confronted with the fact that I would have to
choose, somewhere in the future, really between two worlds.
Lennox’s––which only he and I could share (. . .and perhaps Dallace
and Camille; I wondered if they were okay), and everybody else’s.

It was like they really
were
mutually exclusive, and I could only choose one. I would have chosen both, but
that didn’t seem to be an option. Whatever Gaven said to the contrary, I could
tell he disliked them. Even Ballard felt that way. But he was just being
stubborn. Before I had been bitten, working side by side with a vampire had not
phased Ballard.

I sighed. “He bit me,” I said, “but it wasn’t as bad as it
sounds.” They gasped when I said that. “He didn’t know what he was doing.
Please,”
I said.

This wasn’t entirely true––Marek had wanted me.

I, however, was not prepared to end relationships between
Supernaturals, particularly since they were already so strained, and there
seemed to be an opportunity to repair
old
hostilities
, as Dallace had called them. Maybe this was what he meant by
that, when he told me not to worry about the Lenoir killing me.

Somehow he knew the werewolves would not approve, and that
would be enough, somehow, to prevent an entire coven of vampires––I
gulped––from coming after me.

I realized that in
that
conflict, I would stand with the wolves. Did that make me one of them? I had
already been having the dreams.

While I was thinking about that, Gaven conceded the
floor––or firepit, more exactly––to Lia, who had
something to say.

“You all know me, and that family comes first,” she said,
tossing her hair. She was holding the letter from the Lenoir in her hand. “I
have heard it said that the best policy is to get to know your enemies. This
Gathering gives us the opportunity to do just THAT.” She dipped the letter into
the fire, and it started to burn. The others whooped. I watched as the wax seal
lost its shape and dripped like running blood. She held it in her long fingers,
her crimson nails the color of her racing bike. “They’re supposed to come send
a Finding-feeling, a touchy-feely, anyway something equally
grabby-sounding––some Party––to come test Halls and
me,” she said. In the firelight her smile was pure wicked incarnate. “And I say
amen to that.”

The rebel werewolves threw their heads back and howled like
a pack of animals; it made me laugh.

Lia was serious, but we had a moment, there in the fire. She
and I were family, members of a pack, and I knew we had each other’s backs. It
was all she had to say. She winked at me and relinquished the floor.

Gaven was back looking at all of them. “So,” he said. You
didn’t attack this and make it out alive. That was the gist. They all nodded at
each other.

Gaven was concerned about one thing:

What the Lenoir’s reaction would be when they learned of
Rome’s policy. That werewolves had hunted and killed vampires
before––and would continue to do so, once this little get-together
was over with.

“These are our killing fields,” he said. “We will not yield
a single inch to these
madames et
monsieurs
. They
have
their city.”
The others whooped and yelled. It was like a battle cry.

“I was hoping you would speak to this,” he said, pointing to
me, and relinquishing the firelight.

I stepped forward into the pit––a gladiator in
my own right. Their eyes danced like wild things.

“It’s true. The vampires are coming,” I said. “And I would
certainly be intimidated by you, if I were all of them. However, this is a
civil gathering. At least that’s what they say. So let us use the caution Gaven
spoke of.”

They nodded, listening.

“I can tell you one thing. These vampires have their own
mysterious rules. I don’t pretend to know them. They consider themselves the
only vampires. In that respect, there has only ever been one true vampire
in
Rome.
Lennoxlove Lenoir.”

They all giggled.

Behold my icy stare.

“Right now this city is as empty of Immortals as you have
made it,” I said. “The Lenoir will not fault you for that. In fact, you will
have their appreciation. They consider themselves of superior blood type, you
see. Just don’t kill one of them.”

I did not tell them about the Agonies––that the
vampires purged their numbers.

“Thank you,” said Gaven.

“As for Magic, Lia and I will have to find out,” I said. I
joined the other bodies.

Gaven stepped into the firepit and it was like he
transformed. Everything about him changed. From his tall and muscular form, to
the way he held himself, and even his eyes; his hands were like claws, as he
strode in front of the firing flames. Even his shadow took on something of the
wolf. The fire flickered, and I could see his eyes, like two shards of onyx.
Something had possession of him.

“Let me tell you Alec’s story,” he said. “He was the first
Werewolf. His name means Protector of Men. He was born in Greece. No history
records his deeds.”

Gaven threw his head back. The night itself stooped to
listen.

“Moonlight healed him. He could run for days. The gods
themselves attended upon his birth. So the wise women said. They spoke of him
as they did their herbs: useful and trusty things, they could bend to their
wills.

“Alec was given a choice. To live forever. Or do great
things. He chose the latter.

“A lifetime unbounded by death? Who wouldn’t choose that?

“No; Alec would win renown for himself, and thereby
be
immortal. But first, he had to pass
three tests.

“A terrible beast was rampaging through the countryside.
‘Kill it, Alec,’ they said to him.

“He nodded. ‘I will,’ he said. Alec had gifts. A strong
body, and a well-tempered mind, but he was no wolf. He was just a man, and the
nameless thing which hunted could kill and eat men. No one was safe. No one
could stop it.

“It terrorized small coastal villages. Then would disappear.
The townsfolk soon realized it must take up somewhere, either in a forest or a
cave. It was to this place Alec would go, and kill it where it slept.

“‘Take an army, Alec. Let us dress you in the finest armor.’

“‘Nay. I go alone, with only those things Nature and the
gods themselves endow me with.’ He proceeded to bend a scrap of iron with his
bare hands. ‘I am strong enough.’

“They all agreed that he was a most impressive young
hothead.

“‘But he will come to no good,’ said one older crone. She
heard things. The locals said she had The Ear.

“Alec mocked her and he did his Dance of Mockery. The others
took it up, and so chased the old woman from the village. All thought it was a
good riddance: the old crone gone and Alec off to fight the beast.

“Alec bid them farewell and undertook the destruction of the
beast. There was no one whose paws it could not sully. Alec would remove the
threat, and stop the gruesome murdering of the villagers.

“On the first day, he called down a crow. ‘Show me the way,
crow.’

“‘No,’ cawed the Crow.

“‘You see everything, crow. Surely you have seen this thing
hunting at night. It cannot hide from you.’

“The crow cawed. ‘What’s in it for me?’ he crowed.

“‘You get to live.’ Alec grabbed the crow with incredible
reflexes.