Bran held the phone away from his ear so he could stare at it. Wondering if he had truly just heard the words he has longed for. He could feel Samuel and Charles staring at him. For seven years he had been given so many dead end, and false clues but some how this felt different. He could feel the hope that had dimmed over the years start flaming up again.
"Where?" His voice rough with the held back emotion.
"Canute. Sir. Its only a five hour drive from here."
"We will fly out within the hour. We will meet you in Canute." Bran gave a quick goodbye before hanging up. Bran stared at his two sons as they waited for him to speak. They had heard what Adam had said, but they wanted him to confirm it. For him to tell them that the hope they felt was rational, and was okay. They wanted him to tell them that he knew for certain that this girl was their Mercy. He couldn't, because of all the dead ends, false leads, and false hope. Despite the fact he felt his own hope rising. He couldn't do that to his sons. He wouldn't put them through it again. So he gave a smile before walking out.
No one had spoken since Bran had hung up with Adam almost four hours ago. The only sounds had been the mutterings of the pilots, and the few words at the car rental counter. Each of the men were lost deep within their own thoughts.
Bran stared in his rental car's rearview mirror at his oldest son. His face was etched with grief but the Marrok could see the faint trace of hope. "What if this is just another dead end? What if it really isn't Mercy? What if this girl is already dead? Or what if this is a trap? I mean it is the perfect bait. Everyone knows just how much Mercy meant to us." Charles could no longer hold his thoughts to himself as they raced down the interstate. By the look on Samuel's face the same thoughts were racing through his mind.
"We can never be sure if it a trap, but Adam is an old wolf. He would be able to tell of this Mickey was lying over the phone. And wither or not the girl turns out to be Mercy it is our duty to save her. Every girl we save in some way its Mercy." Both of the Cornick son's could see the passion and conviction in their father's eyes. "We will find her in time." Samuel whispered fiercely. The group fell silent once more, none of them wanting to let the others know their doubts about the girl being their beloved Mercy, or the doubts of Mercy even still being alive.
Bran pulled into the Marriott hotel a few minutes later. The men could feel the stares from the humans as they stepped out of the sedan. They just ignored the stares and walked inside. Behind the counter was pretty blonde the perked up as she saw her late night guests. "Hello, My name is Carrie. What can I do for you?" Her voice was a seductive purr. "I have a reservation under Cornick." Bran's voice was polite but distant. "Here you are. Three rooms." She tried once more but when Bran handed her his card without any hint of interest she deflated. "Thank you. Have a good night." She handed him their keys with a forced smile.
"Women, whether human or wolf, are always throwing themselves at you, Da." Charles cracked a smirk as he followed his father down the hallway. "What can I say? When you got it you got it." Bran teased back. "Adam will be here soon with a few of his wolves. We will meet back in here in an hour and a half. Go get cleaned up and changed." With that men went their separate ways ready to be alone with their thoughts.
The hotel room grew crowded as the seven wolves piled in. They were all anxious to see how it was all going to pan out. "Who are these wolves?" Bran directed at Adam. "The caller identified himself as Mickey Anderson. We have no record of a Mickey Anderson. However Ben, here, however, found a Preston Anderson, who went through the change almost 215 years ago. Kevin O'Leary, a childhood friend of Preston, was Changed only weeks later. Preston, according to records, stayed around the family farm in Ireland for four years waiting for his brother Michael to be old enough to go through the Change as well, since he was his only family left. Over the next hundred and fifty years young girls from all over Europe disappear only to be found months, or years later. Hundreds of miles away. All of them brutalized, tortured, raped, and dead. Each one of them had a crescent moon burned into their skin, just below the left ear. Usually fresh. Then about fifty years ago they just drop off the map. I believe it's the same group." Adam reported sadly. He knew that Bran had heard the same sadistic tales of Preston Anderson.
"So you think that this, this deranged asshole that should have been killed years ago is the same one that has this girl that could be Mercy. Our Mercy! Is this what you are telling me?" The others could feel Charles's power rise as he began to lose control of his rage. "Charles." The one word from his father silenced and calmed him. The enforcer sat back down but his eyes still held fire. "Please continue." Bran mentioned for Adam to continue. "Yes." He simply stated. "Adam have your Ben find an address. We go in at dawn. They will be tired and have their guard down." The power in the Marrok's voice was making the air in the room sizzle. "May god help them if it is our Mercy." He no longer sounded like the calm, level headed Bran Cornick. He was completely the MARROK.
Mickey slipped downstairs quietly. He held his bundle to his chest not wanting to drop anything. "Mercedes?" He just stared as the moonlight bounced off her eyes. She truly was stunning. "I brought you something." He opened the cage door and swiftly placed his cargo inside. The girl stared at the blue battered backpack before recognition dawned. It was the same backpack she had with her all those years ago. The coyote became human once more. Her matted chocolate hair shielded her battered body from Mickey's view, but she was too distracted to care. She reached out her shaking hands almost afraid that it would disappear. "I thought they threw it away." Her voice was a rough whisper. Mickey couldn't hide his wince. It was the first time she had spoken in months. He couldn't help but smile. Maybe she wasn't as broken as he thought. Mickey couldn't bear to tell her that they always keep the possessions to make sure the bodies are identified.
With a shaking hand she unzipped and pulled out a blood stained rag that took her moment to identify. The old brown and pink bunny. Suddenly she was assaulted with a memory of a pair of soft brown laughing eyes. She could see the love inside of them, but she couldn't place who they belonged to. She remembered laugher. So much laughter. "There's more." Mickey's soft voice barely registered. Without loosing her grip on the dirty bunny she dug her hands in once more only to find three faded, slightly worn pictures.
There were the brown eyes again. Charles. Her mind started racing. Granddad Bran. Daddy. They were all there. Her family. It was real. She hadn't only dreamed them. She hadn't just dreamt a life before the pain. She smiled softly. She shifted pictures. Suddenly found herself staring at a smiling wide eyed child. Paint splattered across the girls cheeks but she didn't seem to care. She stared at the men staring down at the child. There was no malice. No anger or lust. There was only love, and laughter. There was only happiness. Mercy felt a tear streak down her cheek but she didn't wipe it away. She knew the girl was her. She shifted to the last picture. There was her daddy again with a tiny girl. The girl hung onto the same brown and pink bunny. But that one had no blood stains or tears. That one didn't hold the scent of terror or pain. She couldn't help but smile at the gift.
She clung the pictures to her. They gave her comfort. But a thought suddenly demanded to be acknowledged. She turned her head to Mickey and stared at him, careful not to reach his eyes. "Why now? Why give these to me now?" He saw the questions burning in her eyes, and behind her silent lips. He couldn't tell her right then that he had called in help, not with Preston just upstairs, and he didn't want to give her false hope in case Adam didn't make it in time. "The full moon is in three days. I thought you might like to have them before…." He trailed off and looked away. She nodded at him but her eyes were back on the photos. She remembered. For a moment she had been able to forget that she was about to die. He left suddenly feeling as he were intruding on something intimate. Mercy never heard him leave.
Mercy couldn't believe how much she had forgotten as she stared into her father's face. The exact color of his pale eyes. The way his eyes lit up when he smiled. She couldn't help but wonder if they even remembered her after all this time. Would they even recognize her body. She traced their faces with her broken nails with a slight smile. If she was going to die, at least she got to see them once last time. Her family. Clinging to the pictures, and bunny and the past they represented Mercy slipped back into coyote, and fell asleep. For the first time in as long as she can remember she didn't dream of pain.
She found herself racing across the Montana mountain with three werewolves on her trail. But she wasn't afraid. She only felt love, laughter, and complete. She was safe, and happy. She was home again. She didn't care it was only a dream.