D:JKR


Chapter 4: History

May 8, 2001, North Dakota

"Nothing, sir." Lupe said, his hairy wrist snapped in a blunt salute. "I've searched every room on the floor."

The chief snarled and turned his back so that he faced the broken living room window. The window looked down over the valley from one of the tallest mountains in the range. A few broken pine trees and the smoldering remains of a woodshed were the only signs that the wolves had even been there. The chief clasped his crooked hands behind his back. A soft breeze ruffled his mangy hair.

"It's almost dark," the chief growled, eyeing the dissipating light over the horizon. "The transformation is imminent, make sure you are ready when the time comes, I want no evidence left without tampering."

Lupe bowed out of the room, heading towards the back entrance. His green eyes glanced at the wall where the vanishing cabinet once rested; it was indistinguishable from the rest of the house. At the door, Lupe placed a dog treat on the floor right inside, just in case. He stepped over the threshold and breathed in the cool dusk air. He waited on the lawn, shuffling, eyes on the horizon where the moon was set to rise. In the final minutes, he took off his coat and jeans and set them on a log for the morning. He bounced on the balls of his feet and pulled at his scraggly goatee. A harsh scream dissolved into a howl. Answering calls rose up around the yard. Lupe was no longer, there were only emotions, overpowering impulses, a dog treat—appetizer for the night.


July 4, 2015, Colorado

The old man returned with a cup of tea for each of them. Manuel sipped his cautiously and observed his surroundings. "Bit dark, isn't it?" He asked, "—for your tastes."

"Well, yes, I suppose," the old man twittered, "but these are dark times, after all, and one must make such adjustments to stay isolated."

"What do you think they'll do next?" Manuel asked, "I mean they'll know we're coming for them this time."

The old man set his teacup down on the rough wood coffee table. He leaned back and shut his eyes. "Yes, I've been thinking about that, I have some old friends, well, acquaintances, up in Portland and I'm sure they'd be willing to help if you plead your case. For a small fee, that is."

"Oh?" Manuel rested his teacup on a coaster.

"Yes, I'll go and find the address, it should be around here somewhere," The old man stood and shuffled towards a back room of the cave where Manuel could make out loose piles of paper illuminated by a single bare bulb.

After a few moments, Manuel stood and made to help the man, but passed a mirror on the way and could not help but notice his reflection. The green eyes—they brought back so many memories. He felt them itch and a single tear rolled down his cheek. He concentrated and the color shifted to a lighter blue. That would be safer, he thought, he could not afford to lose his composure for the shortest second. He added a little brown to his hair and adjusted his jaw line for good measure. Squaring his shoulders, he ducked into the little back room.


Arizona

The vampire stood in the shadow of a deadened streetlight, waiting. The street, a dark and deserted suburban neighborhood, stretched infinitely in both directions, lit only by the periodic gloom of the flickering lights. A car door slammed some distance down the street. The vampire's ears perked, but a barking dog drowned out all other signs of life. Still, the vampire waited. She was patient, but if the situation required it, a dog was not entirely out of the question. Of course, human blood was considerably sweeter and more sustaining.

A light blinked on in an upstairs window across the street. The vampire drew closer to the burnt streetlight, her long, cold fingers grasping its slender pole. A face appeared in the window. A child. Fool, the vampire thought, but the light clicked off just as soon as it had alit. Location compromised, the bat fluttered off in search of fresh hunting grounds.

She had no sooner landed in a new neighborhood than the vampire found she was no longer alone.

"Bleudven, I should have known—how did you find me?" She asked the shadow lurking behind a fence.

The shadow stepped into the street. He was tall, slender, and appeared to be wearing a suit. He had a very gaunt face of which she could make out very little. He spoke, his voice thin and papery. "Quite easily, as a matter of fact, Aramancella, I believe the muggles call it sonar or, perhaps, echolocation?"

"Humorous." The female vampire said, her face as stony and cold as ever.

"I do believe so." The male affirmed. "Actually, I had not hoped to practice my routine, but merely to have a word with you—"

"A word? Well, in that case," Aramancella said, "I'll just be off. I was hunting you know, it was going rather—"

"—in private." Bleudven finished.

The female glanced up and down the deserted street and rolled her eyes. "If you insist."

Cautiously, she placed her arm in the elbow he offered her, and with a sickening twist, the two vampires vanished.