Disclaimer: The Night World concept is the property of L.J. Smith. All characters are creations of my peculiar imagination. Gilbert and Sullivan are mentioned who are the property of themselves and any of their operettas also belong to them.
Spoilers: None so far it is based on the Night World Series but I don't spoil any of the books, just the Night World concept really.
Author's notes: This is a new story completely unconnected to Bound by Flame in anyway but I'm going to thank everyone who reviewed the last few parts of Bound by Flame here and hope that you read this story too.
So to Mandy, adelaide, Eleyne, Magelet, tough-fluff, Water Angel, Meg, Carrie, werepanther, Carina, Jackie W and Queen Kat thank you so, so much for reviewing, your comments and praise left me speechless, I cannot thank you all enough. And because you asked there is going to be a sort of sequel, I've even begun writing it but I don't yet if Gwern and Des will be in it.
Part One.
The howl rang out deep and loud rising up to meet the sliver of a moon that hung low in the sky. It was joined by others ranging in pitch and volume, a chorus of voices wild and free singing their joy of the hunt. The pack loped silently through the fields, moving like shadows, like ghosts, a fleeting image no one was sure they saw and leaving no evidence that they had passed that way. The pack was hunting, hunting in the flat fields and pastures that were not their natural habitat, not anymore. There had been a time in the past, the now forgotten past when the land had been covered in oak forests, when the land had truly been pack land.
In their homes humans shivered as they heard the pack's song. A part of them that remembered what it was like to be prey awakened within them. They told each other it was a group of stray dogs, nothing more. Sometimes a comforting lie is easier to believe than the truth. The truth, that the valley of farms and small town were a home to the creatures of the night, a hiding place, a dumping ground for those it didn't like or couldn't control. People searching for solace, escaping from something or someone, everyone with their own secrets, their own pain but all searching for the same ultimate goal, journey's end.
A figure stood sheathed in night listening to the song of the pack. He rose his cigarette to his lips as he surveyed the town. This was the last place in the world he thought he'd end up but then he'd always thought this place was a myth, an urban legend of the Night World. Truthfully no one in the Night World believed this place existed now here he was. What was he doing here? He was a fighter, born for battle, built for the fight. He was a hunter born of predators and here he was hiding like a rat, he had no other real choice his sense of self preservation was too strong to let him die for something as unimportant as pride or honour or stupidity, whatever it was that made him want to go looking for trouble.
Trouble, maybe trouble was too nice a word for it, he wasn't hiding from trouble he was hiding from death. He who had brought death to so many was now cowering in a corner hoping it would pass him by. That was the problem, he knew, he of all people knew that Death didn't pass anyone by, it came for everyone eventually and maybe, just maybe he wanted to face it like a man, like a warrior. However for whatever part of him that wanted to die a brave and honourable death an even larger part of him wanted to stay alive. That was why he'd come to this town, that was why he'd stay. As he moved down the street towards his new house the light of a nearby streetlight revealed a young, handsome face with eyes that were too old, too experienced for his youth.
Emma Casey sat in the back of The Rising Moon waiting for her friends. The place was pretty much deserted which wasn't surprising considering it's reputation. The Rising Moon was a dangerous place or so people said though there hadn't been many disturbances there just a fight or two. It's bad reputation was based mostly on rumours and the fact that some of the town's more notorious characters were know to frequent the place. The proprietors, the Lowells, weren't exactly anxious to dissuade or end the rumours anyway. In their opinion the bad reputation was a good thing, it meant that usually people didn't go there unless they were pack or friends of the pack so they were able to keep The Rising Moon pack only without any effort on their part.
Emma wasn't pack, she was pure human but she did fall under the other category and her friend Fiachra had placed her under pack protection a few months before. Plus the Lowells liked her and she was friends with their son Hern. Emma was one of the few humans in the town who knew about the Night World, the pack and all the other Night People in town were renegades but even so they didn't advertise what they were, not many humans could handle that knowledge. They only told humans they could trust and they were few and far between.
Emma looked up as her friends Hayden and Stella entered the café. Hayden as usual was smiling brightly, his violet eyes dancing and his white blond hair dishevelled as always. Stella's tall, slender form moved with an easy grace across the room with the smooth and fluid movements that gave her away as a Night Person. A smile played over her wistful features when she saw Emma.
"Hey guys," Emma greeted them.
"Hey Ems," Hayden replied, "How you doing?"
"Been better," she told him with a smile, "been a whole lot worse so basically I am of the good."
Hayden shook his head with a wry grin, "It still amazes me how you can use so many words when one would suffice."
"It's a rare and special talent," she told him smiling brightly.
As she said this their other friends, Hern, Fiachra and Tristram piled in through the door. Hern and Fiachra were pack but Tristram on the other hand was human though an old soul.
"Hi guys," Hern said as they approached the table. "Been waiting long?"
"We just got here," Hayden told him.
"So who else are we expecting?" Fiachra asked as he straddled a chair.
"Clea and Nathan are supposed to show," Hayden informed him, "the others are questionable."
"I've always thought so," Stella said with a grin.
"Huh," Hayden said with an expression of confusion that caused Emma to laugh.
"She means she always thought the others were questionable," she explained to him still amused by his lack of comprehension. "Obviously your wit is way too highbrow for him," she remarked to Stella.
"I know," Stella replied, "Knock knock jokes are more his speed."
Hayden glared angrily at Stella, "Just cause I like my humour a little less clever and a lot more funny is not a bad thing."
"Knock knock jokes are funny?" Tristram inquired innocently.
"Funnier than Stella anyway," Hayden responded.
Stella glared angrily at Hayden her gray eyes changing to the colour of steel, "Oh I'm not funny now." Then a grin spread across her face, "I am the very model of a modern comic genius."
Emma giggled and watched again as the joke flew right over Hayden's head, the look on his face was so comical she began a fit of laughing.
"Personally I wouldn't say genius," Tristram remarked, "I mean Gilbert and Sullivan is a joke as it is, anyone can make it comical."
"Okay enough," Hayden ordered, "I will not have you holding conversations I don't understand in front of me, do it while I'm not around so I won't have to know how uninformed I am."
"Being uninformed when it comes to Gilbert and Sullivan is not a bad thing, believe me," Tristram told him, "My mother made me sit through The Mikado, Pirates of Penzance, H.M.S. Pinafore and Princess Ida, it is the worst form of torture."
"You just have no appreciation for culture," Stella said.
"The Mikado, like the biscuit?" Hayden asked hopefully.
"No," Stella replied laughing, "like Three Little Girls from School Are We."
"Oh that," Hayden said shaking his head, "I know that. I guess that means I'm not as uninformed as I thought."
"Sure honey, you believe that if you want," Stella told him.
As they sat talking and waiting for the rest of their tribe to turn up Hern's mother came into the café. She had been serving in the bar section of The Rising Moon which was beside the café, the counters of each were joined by a door so one person could serve both if need be.
"Do you kids need anything?" she asked Hern.
"Nope we're good. I think," he replied looking at the others to make sure they agreed.
"Okay, well I'll be next door, Hern will you look after anyone who wants anything here?"
"Sure Mom, no problem," he agreed.
She turned to leave then remembering something else she wanted to say turned back. "Did you hear anything about a new guy in town?" she asked.
"There's a new guy in town," Fiachra said surprised.
"That's what Isis told me," Hern's mom replied. "He's supposed to be around the same age as you guys, lamia I think. He'll probably be staring school Monday." With that she returned to the bar leaving them to their thoughts.
Clea and Nathan arrived about two minutes later and they began what Hayden described as their old lady gossip sessions. They'd talk and laugh for ages usually about nothing but it was always fun. They made an unlikely group that was for sure, a ragtag bunch of Night People and humans, misfits and mystics Hern said. Emma wasn't even sure how they'd all become friends, maybe it was because no one else would have them or because they'd just been drawn to each other. It really didn't seem to matter how it had happened only that it had and now they were close, they were like family and Emma knew they'd do anything for each other.
When they all eventually began to prepare to leave for home Hayden approached Emma. "You've been quiet today. Everything okay?"
"I haven't been that quiet and yes everything's fine," she told him, "I was just thinking."
"That explains it," he said with a smile, "I know how much energy it takes for your brain to work."
Emma grinned, "It being so big and all."
"I don't think that's what I was saying. Anyway you going home now?"
"Yep, straight home as a dutiful daughter should. You want to walk with me or even better have you got the car and therefore the power to save me the long walk home?"
"Sorry I am sans vehicle today, your feet are just going to have to do the walking. Unless you want to try and let your fingers do the walking but I wouldn't recommend it," he quipped.
"Why? You try it?" Emma asked.
"Once and my fingers have never been the same since plus all the blood rushing to me head, it wasn't pretty."
Emma grinned and pushed open the door. "See ya Hern," she called.
"Yeah," Hern replied, "see you Monday."
Emma and Hayden walked towards the end of town in virtual silence. Emma contemplated conversation topics for a minute then abandoned the idea because she didn't really feel like talking much.
"Did I ever tell you what a stimulating conversationalist you are?" Hayden said eventually to break the silence.
"You may have mentioned it," Emma replied with a smile. "Though those are very big words for someone who doesn't know anything about Gilbert and Sullivan."
Hayden grinned sheepishly, "What can I say I'm not a music man." After that they continued to walk in silence until eventually Hayden broke down, "Can we please talk about something, anything," he pleaded. "I don't like silence. It means I'm alone with my own thoughts, it's terrible."
Emma didn't know how to react, she was only half sure he was joking. She smiled at him hoping that he was and granted his request. "Did you hear the pack last night?"
"Yeah, they came right through the fields at the back of my place."
"They should be careful, they don't want people to see them."
"They are careful Em, you know that. They've been here a long time and they'll be here along time more. You know how people are here, so eager to ignore and forget rather than think about what's going on. You hear of people letting their imaginations run away with them, the people here don't even let reality run away with them."
"Still," Emma said softly, "if word got back to the Night World."
"It won't," Hayden said confidently, "the elders won't let it. You know how hard they work to make sure that won't happen."
That was true, the elders had an infinite number of rules to keep the community from being discovered and everyone who sought refuge there was willing to follow them, they were willing to do anything to keep from being found, to be safe, to live without fear. That was the reason they came to Glenalta, a place without fear, a place where they could live a normal life even though they were hiding. Emma didn't even know why most people were there, nobody talked about it, it just wasn't done, everyone was entitled to their secrets and nobody really wanted to reveal them.
Emma glanced at Hayden sideways and wondered why he had come to Glenalta. He'd arrived a little over a year before from the North of England, he was a pretty long way from home with no family or anything. What could have happened that would have made him come so far and leave so much behind and Stella, what was she running from? Emma sighed, she'd probably never know.
"You look preoccupied," Hayden said to her.
"I am," was her only reply.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing important," she told him.
"Okay," he sighed, "I guess I'll see you Monday."
Emma glanced up in surprise, they were already at Hayden's place, she hadn't realised, she hadn't even noticed the time passing.
"Yeah Monday," she replied, "I'd better get home Mom and Dad will be worrying."
When she did get back to her house she discovered a note from her parents to say they would be gone for a while and to make her own dinner if she wanted some. She curled up on the sofa and suddenly felt very alone, she couldn't really understand it, she had lots of friends and her parents but sometimes she still felt lonely. Maybe it was just because she wanted someone she could share everything with, someone with whom there would be no secrets. It didn't seem likely in her town, her home was built on secrets, there wasn't anyone she knew who didn't have one even herself.
So if she kept secrets, secrets she would never reveal to anyone, how could she expect anyone else to reveal theirs? It wasn't going to happen. Life just wasn't like that, no matter how much she disliked it people needed their secrets and usually they kept them for good reasons. So she didn't really know if knowing everything about someone even their deepest, darkest, innermost secrets would be a blessing or a curse.