Part 8

Jeremy himself came striding across the park. I stood, going to meet him. He took hold of my shoulder in a manner that looked rough, but truly wasn't. He was doing it in case Marsten was watching us, which he likely was. We knew Jeremy needed to keep up the pretense of me having left without his permission. It might make Marsten more apt to talk to me again; that was if he didn't realize that his room, along with those of his compatriots, had been compromised.

Jeremy said nothing, but dragged me (sort of) towards the Jeep. He held his hands out for the keys and I surrendered them to him. He said nothing until we were well out of town, away from any possible spies, Clay, driving his truck right behind us.

"Thank you." He said over the sound of the pavement beneath the tires.

"You found something?" As much as my conversation with Marsten had been for person gain, I wanted something to have come out of the search as well.

"We did."

He pulled into the garage at Stonehaven, letting the door close behind us completely before he got out of the driver's seat and came around to offer me a hand to climb out as well.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" I could feel the tension in the hand that held mine.

"No."

"Thank God."

He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. I felt his hands slip to my waist, holding me close to him, not that I would have pulled away. We took advantage of those few moments of peace and quiet.

"You promise that you are okay Elena?"

"I promise."

"Then we have some things to tell everyone; Clay and Nick should be back in the house by now."

It seemed that we had assembled far too many times recently in Jeremy's study, our places were carved out; whether it was a chair, a window ledge, or a wall. Too many unhappy conversations of late, too many half-truths, and I knew this conversation was likely to be just as hard as the others. What was just a little out of place was a large white book laid open on Jeremy's desk, with Logan beside it, typing furiously on the laptop.

"What did you find?" I asked.

"I'm not sure you want to see it Elena." Jeremy's voice was soft, concerned.

"Why not?"

"We found Pete's ring." Clay pulled a scrap of fabric from his pocket, a purloined washcloth, which he peeled open to show me the signet ring, the bloody signet ring that I had always remembered being on Pete's right hand. I drew in a slow breath.

"We found something else." Clay told me.

"What?"

"A scrapbook."

"A scrapbook?" I couldn't help but shiver because I knew what that likely meant. It was obviously the book that Logan was looking over.

"And I recognized some of the clippings that were inside." He told me as he turned the laptop around so we could all see the screen.

"Is this the man you and Nick saw?"

It was he; dark rimmed glasses, close cropped hair, black, fixed eyes, short-sleeved shirt.

"Who is he?"

"His name is Thomas Leblanc."

"He's a serial killer, isn't he?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Santos turned a serial killer into a Mutt?" Clay was beside himself with rage. I noticed he was still clutching Pete's ring, the gold likely cutting into his palm. Logan continued his story.

"The clippings seem to be from crimes he's been convicted of."

"But if he's been convicted, how did Santos get to him?" Clay was asking the questions we all had.

"He escaped from a prison transport, on his way to hospital to have an MRI. Some kind of research project."

"Damn it!" I felt my own teeth clench.

"Santos helped a murderer escape and then turned him into a follower?"

"From what I read here, this man isn't the type to follow so easily." Logan told us.

"So he may have his own agenda then?" That thought scared me.

"Whatever the agenda, we have to take him out." Clay was ready.

"I agree." Jeremy's voice was soft but powerful. They were the words we had all wanted to hear but hadn't expected.

"Good." Clay was back on his feet, shoving Pete's ring back into his pocket. "Let's go."

"It isn't that simple Clay."

"It never is, is it Jeremy? He's a Mutt, the Pack has every right to take him out."

"I don't want to do it in front of Daniel. We need to strip away this sense of power he is building up for himself, take away his soldiers, his backup, his comfort zone so that he makes a mistake, one we can capitalize on."

"So this Leblanc has to vanish then?"

"Not quite vanish, Santos has to know he's dead, has to understand why, and who."

"I'd be happy to leave his head in a box on Santos' doorstop." Clay's voice was very nearly a snarl.

"And that may be an option Clay, though perhaps not out in the open, where the police could get involved."

We all nodded.

"We need to get him away from that room, on his own. And I think this book may be the key to doing that." Jeremy patted the scrapbook. "We just have to let him know we have it. He'll want it back I imagine, and he'll be willing to meet someone for it."

It was a sound plan.

I didn't like it.

By now the man was most certainly unhinged, he'd have noticed his souvenirs were gone; whether he admitted this intrusion to Santos or not was something we couldn't be certain of. We were going to gamble that this part of his life was private, that Leblanc would have kept that part of his obscene predilections to himself. A few torn out pages in an envelope slipped under his door by the maid (charmed by Nick of course), with a place and time, (the warehouse, the following day) and the others were going to wait to see who turned up. I was being left behind, ordered to stay put, threatened wordlessly by both Jeremy and Clay. I tried to reason with them, that it would be better if I were with the Pack, if it came to having to defend myself. What if they came to Stonehaven instead? For a moment the men, my family, paused.

"Go into town then. Go sit in the café, in plain sight, no one will dare try anything in public."

I wasn't quite convinced of that, but it was better than being left at home. Then came the caveat.

"But you have to promise me that you won't go near that warehouse or the motel, and you'll wait for us to contact you before you come home."

"Fine."

It would have been petulant at that point to storm off to my room so I stayed in Jeremy's study as the others went in search of dinner. The books were still there, and I wanted to go over them again, looking for this origin myth that Marsten had told me about. I wasn't alone for long. I didn't have to look up to know it was Clay.

"What did you and Marsten talk about?" No greeting, no easing into the conversation, just blunt words.

"I tried to find out more about this Mutt. But the only thing he could commit to was that he hadn't been the one to turn him."

"And what else?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know you had other questions for him. What were they?"

Damn him, Clay knew me too well.

"You didn't tell him about the baby did you?"

"You think I'm an idiot Clay?"

"I know none of us have been thinking straight lately."

"Antonio mentioned someone, Marsten is from an old family I wanted to know if he knew any of the old stories."

"Did he?"

"A little." I felt some of the fight I had been preparing for drain out of me. "He told me about someone named Judith." I related the story to Clay as he sat down beside me on the loveseat. He listened thoughtfully, and I appreciated it.

"Does it sound like anything you've heard before Clay?"

He nodded his head.

"Something Jeremy told you?"

"I'm sorry Elena, it sounds like a some kind of mash up of Romulus and Remus and a story of the Titans, when five brothers conspired to overthrow Ouranos. It's a common theme in Mythology. There are Eastern versions of it too."

I didn't even bother trying to control the tears that ran down my face. For a few hours I had hope that I could carry the baby to term, that it had been done before, but I had been foolish to believe in an old story. I let my head hang down on my chest and felt, (but did not move) as Clay draped his arm over my shoulder.

"I can't do this." I whimpered.

"Yes you can Elena. I know you're scared."

"I don't want to die."

"Die? You aren't going to die."

"I don't want to hurt the baby, I don't want to hurt Jeremy, and I don't want to hurt you. And I shouldn't even be thinking about this. I should be thinking about Pete, and about this psycho that Daniel has turned, and about everything that isn't so selfish."

"You're overwhelmed Elena."

"Of course I am."

"You should talk to Jeremy."

"I don't even know what to say to him Clay. How can I question his decisions, especially when he is doing everything for this baby?"

"He's doing this for you. He loves you."

"I know." I did know, and I knew I couldn't hurt him any longer; or at least I couldn't live with the guilt any longer. I needed to talk to him, really talk to him, and I knew exactly where he was.

My cheeks were still tear stained as I stood in front of Jeremy's door, trying to convince myself to stay, or to run, neither side making a particularly strong case. Either way I was going to be miserable, but at least if he ended up hating me then I would have an excuse to leave, and just be miserable on my own. I knocked softly; half hoping he wouldn't answer. But of course he did.

"Elena? What's happened?"

"Can I come in?"

"Of course you can, please." He stepped away from the door, only then did I notice he'd shed his vest and that his shirt was only part ways buttoned up. Looking at him that way brought back the comfort, and the sensuality of having been with him, the intimacy we'd shared and I felt like a fraud. I couldn't even look him in the eyes.

"You're scaring me Elena. Did Marsten do something, say something?"

"I asked him about Judith." I whispered.

"Who is Judith?" The pitch of his voice betrayed his anxiety.

"A myth, another female werewolf, one who had four sons. I thought maybe I could find out if it was possible, for me to have a baby." I hated that my voice sounded so stuttered.

"Does Marsten know?" He didn't look at me in an accusatory fashion, only a concerned one. It was killing me inside.

"No. I didn't say anything about it. But I won't be able to hide it for much longer, everyone will know."

"I will protect you, both of you."

"You are so kind, too kind Jeremy." I began to cry again. "Please don't ever doubt that I love you."

"Elena, what is going on?"

"I can't lie to you any more Jeremy. If you hate me and can't look at me again that I'll understand."

He shook his head.

"I will never hate you." He tried to assure me.

"You might." I took a deep breath. "The baby, there's a chance, oh God," I couldn't stop myself from shaking and Jeremy put his hands on my shoulders.

"I know." He whispered. I slowly raised up my eyes to look into his.

"You know?' I was confused.

"Clay came to me the very night you told me. Confessed, blamed himself, begged me not to think less of you. As if I could ever think less of you." He brushed his fingers down the side of my reddened face.

His smile was so beautiful. I let myself sink into his embrace, relief, not upset radiating through my limbs.

"We are a perfect family, this Pack. Your child will be a cherished part of our family, just as you are. And this knowledge will stay between you and Clay and myself."

I nodded, my head against his chest, his arms holding me upright as they always seemed to.

When I woke it was in Jeremy's bed and for that moment, I felt some hope.