Author's Note: Ugh… life getting busy! Don't like it! Yeah, so if you read Shadow Games as well, you'll know my superior quit, so now – though I don't actually have her job – I do have her hours. 10-4ish every day, five days a week… that means lots of money, but I'm (a wuss) two days in, and I'm knackered, after seeing 'School of Rock' (funny, btw, and not really the right material to follow this with, lol) and I'm feeling rather sleepy, but I thought I'd give it a go anyway. So here's hoping you enjoy *crosses fingers, and gets them stuck* Oh dear… this took me a few days too *sigh* But my sister came down for my birthday (which is next week) and she bought me LXG on DVD! WOOHOO! *does a groovy happy dance*

RogueSparrow: I'm glad you liked Chapter 11. Thank you kindly. Hope you get your comp fixed soon. I miss you!

angelic katty: *waves 'Go League' flag, and hands you one*

Raven Silvers: Glad you're intrigued. That's comforting to hear. I had – sadly – intended for the Hyde/werewolves part to be longer, but I think I'll save some of that action for later, eh? Everybody needs a laugh, and who better to provide it then Skinner? Lol.

Sethoz: Happy you agree with me in regards to 'Burn'. The easy change from Tom was a whim… spur of the moment, and it kinda wrote itself. Glad you weren't concerned by that, lol. And, argh, I missed you again today! I'm sorry!

Niani: Wow… neat little review. Thanks!

drowchild: Hehehehe, hope you had a good vacation, and glad you liked that this was waiting for you.

Caraphoenix: Funny you should say about Piotr from X-Men… they're based on the same actor (if you look at X2 anyway) and they do kinda have the same temperament… no one else picked up on that so far. You'll be seeing more of him and Lei in the future, so I'm happy you like them both.

Capt. Cow: The newest baddie? You already met him, dear Cow :) Mwahahaha!

Enduro: … That has got to be the most reassuring and encouraging thing anyone has ever said, and I thank you deeply for it. You really are being too kind, but I appreciate it all the same.

Graymoon74: Hehehehe… cool analogy. Hadn't thought of that myself, but they do have the same mindless-killing-machine approach to them don't they? Much butt-kicking to come, so don't despair! Scared? Excellent! Bwahaha!

Emily M. Hanson: Thanks.

                Deciding it best to abandon the area before the other two werewolves discovered what had been done, Mina, Quatermain and Skinner had fled, aiming to return to the Nautilus, and ample shelter from ambush. They did not pass the other two creatures on the way, but did almost literally run into Jekyll and Nemo, the former clinging to the tatty remains of his clothing and shivering. On the way back from the alley where the chase had ended, Skinner had reclaimed his shed trilby and coat and re-donned them, but he chivalrously offered his leather jacket to Jekyll.

                "No, it's quite all right," Jekyll said at once, "I'm fine."

                "Just take the coat," Skinner retorted blandly, and rather bluntly, and after a brief hesitation, the doctor accepted, slipping it on and for a while looking and seeming rather uncomfortable. After a moment, though, he seemed to settle into the item of clothing, though Mina had to admit that the man did look rather odd in the coat, but she refused the smile.

                "What happened?" she asked of Nemo and Jekyll.

                Nemo cleared his throat quietly, and said quietly, "I was incapacitated. I am the wrong person to ask, Mrs. Harker."

                Mina could not hide her surprise at this fact, and her eyes hovered on the mysterious captain for a moment, before she forced herself to look at Jekyll inquiringly. The timid man noticed and faltered, stumbling over his own words, before managing, "Well… Hyde fought them for only a little while, before they almost sensed something, and fled. It was peculiar."

                "The one I shot," Quatermain offered at once in explanation. "They are a pack after all. They might have sensed the injury, or even heard the shot itself. It would have caused them to find their wounded… or dead, I should say."

                "No," Mina interjected confidently, beginning on her way to the Nautilus, not far off, the floating trilby right by her side, "not dead, Mr. Q., you can be sure of that."

                She more or less detected Quatermain's confusion on the air, it was so prominent, and she sighed lightly. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Nothing could ever be easy. She was musing on this as she said, "I am pretty sure I mentioned it in the fuller explanation, Mr. Quatermain… my apologies if I missed out this detail, but werewolves are far more resilient that normal creatures… much like vampires. You may have heard the myth about silver, and I will not hesitate to ensure you that this is indeed true. Conventional weapons cannot kill them… they can hurt them, yes… but not kill. We need bullets or blades of silver to destroy them. It is either that, or massive trauma to the brain or spinal column. Sever the latter, and it will be instantaneous death, as Mr. Hyde discovered rather effectively not too long ago. Captain Nemo – if the threat persists that is – can fit your rifle with silver bullets as he did with Agent Sawyer's."

                Quatermain did not present any argument, just held his rifle closer to him as if for protection, looking over his shoulder in an almost irritated fashion. The hunter had been robbed of his kill, and Mina had no doubt that this stung quite badly, for an adventurer so famed.

                With another delicate sigh, she saw the submarine loom into view, and continued to puzzle over the werewolves' reasons for chasing them. So far she had very little to go by in the way of explanation.

                Lacertus did not give in to the pain, even as he morphed back into his human form, his curled black locks falling in his brown eyes as he screwed up his face in an exaggerated grimace. The fact that he was devoid of any clothing did not bother him, even as the two other figures hovered in the shadows, their feral eyes the last things to change back to human normality. They watched him, and he knew their gazes were burning into him accusingly in reprimand.

                He glanced to them, and then lowered his head, touching a hand to his side where the rifle shot had blown into him. His hand came away reddened, but in the alpha pair's presence, he did not dare to show the discomfort. His head was bowed in subtle submission as he said, "I did not mean for them to escape."

                The female strode over to him, her light chestnut locks disorganised attractively – to him at least – around her icy eyes and flawless features, her intense gaze boring into him. She looked disappointed, but did not show it too much as normal humans would, instead simply arched a brow, and said, "It will not happen again, Lacertus."

                He glanced up and met the solid gaze of Lacertus, and replied, "No, lupa… it will not." She nodded at his title for her, and gazed to the second male as he strode boldly over, favouring his right leg slightly but hiding the pain completely from his face. It was Gladius, the most brutal of the two males, and most certainly the alpha of the pair, with Falx, the fiery-haired woman most definitely heading off the team. The three regarded one another blankly for a moment, soldiers united in failure and not in the least bit perturbed by it outwardly, before Falx gave a shudder, and then transformed, followed shortly by Gladius, who dropped to all fours and snarled. Lacertus stared at them for a moment as if hesitant with the rifle wound to his side, and gave in to the change.

                Lacertus clambered to his four paws and gave a shake, ignoring the burning in his body, and ran after the rest, bringing up the rear behind the swift alphas.

                Tom, Anise and the other two waited in the dining hall, and a crewmember had brought hot tea a little while ago, which none of them seemed interested in. Lei eyed it every now and then, perhaps as if it were not to be trusted, but did not move toward it, standing warily next to the intimidating Dmitri.

                The atmosphere was heavy, the mood tense, and Tom for one kept looking to the others for some kind of explanation as to what was going on and why they had been chased. So far, no one had given him anything. It was starting to play on his patience, which had already been a little thin as of late, though he wasn't entirely sure why. He had a pretty good idea though.

                "Anise… can you tell me what just happened out there?"

                Her brown eyes floated to meet his, and then flitted away for a moment. Something was wrong, and it was obvious in more ways than one. She avoided his direct gaze, her shoulders had slumped slightly, and she was nervous… he could sense it, smell it even, and that was perhaps what frightened him most.

                "Anise…" he began again, moving toward her. He thought he heard a low threatening growl, and glancing to the other side of the table showed him that Lei was glaring, dark eyes narrowed dangerously. He stared right back, almost a challenge, and then turned on the Frenchwoman. "What's going on? Who were the people-" He cut himself off, closed his eyes and corrected, "Werewolves… who were they? The ones following us…"

                The shadowy gaze met his own, and the brown eyes wavered in their hold, and she faltered in her words, words that cut themselves off before taking on any real sound. She was hiding something from him, and he could tell it was not good.

                "Not again, Anise," he began quietly, bowing his head down to her slightly and talking in a low voice, almost a growl, and quite literally. He tried to stop it, but his emotions fought for precedence, and the bestial urges were starting to burn through him. "You've lied to me before, and it ended badly… it ended with me becoming like you, remember?"

                "Yes I remember, and I never meant to hurt you," Anise countered, turning on him, seemingly ignoring the presence of Dmitri and Lei as she continued, "you must remember that. I fought Jacques to save you."

                Without thinking properly, the words came from his mouth, "And what a great job you did."

                The shock filled her features at the sarcasm unintentionally dripping from his words, and she gave a slight gasp of disbelief, shaking her head.

                Tom felt the force pull on his shoulder, and he whirled to face Lei, who was growling loudly at him, still completely human but also extremely vehement on defending her friend.

                "Don't touch me again," he warned her, even as Anise walked quickly from the room, watched silently by Dmitri, who stood stoically on the other side of the table, his eyes the only expressive part of his body. They were surprised and saddened, and he glanced to Tom and Lei as they stood in the middle of their confrontation, inches apart, so differing in size but anger rising quickly and comparing impressively.

                Tom was growling despite himself, but he suddenly cut it off, and shoved Lei hard, sending her back into the table with such force that she caused the piece of furniture to slide across the floor, almost colliding with the Russian, who leapt out of the way with a disbelieving gaze at Tom.

                The American glared at both of them, and then moved from the room, heading after Anise. He had lost sight of her, but he used his new abilities to track her. He tried not to let it bother him, even as his newly enhanced hearing picked up the telltale sounds of someone entering the Nautilus, in discussion.

                The League are back, he reasoned, and halted for only a moment, before he carried on, intent on finding Anise and trying to get to the bottom of the problem. He should have known she was hiding something from him again… but she had seemed so relaxed. But then again, hadn't she acted that way before?

                Why am I so trusting? I should have expected this, he thought with a deep frown, running his hands through his dishevelled hair. Sighing, he caught her scent… she was headed for his own room. Had she expected him to follow her? Maybe she had, but then again, perhaps she had not realised where she was going and had only travelled that way out of instinct.

                Skinner pushed his way into the dining hall only to freeze immediately at the sight. The two strange werewolves were standing there, side by side, the small woman looking infuriated, free of Quatermain's jacket now. He tried to avert his eyes from the shredded clothing, noticing she let her eyes scan over the floating trilby again, brow furrowed ever so slightly. The man by her side was gigantic to say the least, a huge hulking mass of muscle and bone. He didn't look the kind one would challenge unless they were certain of victory… and Skinner wouldn't be trying that any time in the near future.

                The others came in behind him, and Mina pushed past, looking at the two others, saying, "Introductions will be made when this matter is resolved." She looked around the room at great length, turning her clear, icy gaze back on the two newcomers and asking coolly, "Where are Sawyer and Delacroix?"

                The two simply looked at one another, even as Quatermain rested the butt of Matilda on the ground impatiently, and sighed wearily, leaning on the barrel with one weathered hand, shadowy eyes on the two strangers. "There is business to discuss… would you mind supplying an answer?" he asked of them, raising his brows in unison to emphasise on the urgency of his inquiry.

                Skinner slumped into a chair after relieving the decanter of some of its volume, sipping at the glass quickly and thirstily. This was going to take a long while… it didn't seem that the newcomers trusted anyone.

                "Perhaps," Skinner began, no longer intimidated when everyone's eyes shot to him when he spoke, "it would be productive to get the pesky introductions out of the way? Then we can get on with the explanations, 'eh?"

                Everyone exchanged glances, and with a sigh, Quatermain and Mina began the necessary task of meeting and greeting, though somewhat begrudgingly it seemed, from their body language at least. Skinner had grown – or so he liked to think – rather adept at reading it, and Mina looked incredibly tense as she shook hands with the large… was he Russian?

                The smaller one was watching Skinner – or rather, his hat – with caution, as if worried he would leap up and attack her at any moment. But, he realised, if she was a werewolf, as she did indeed appear to be, then she would have no problems smelling him anyway… so what did she have to worry about?

                Anise whirled at once when the door flew open behind her and Tom strode in, clearly upset and hurt by her behaviour… as she was with his. She thought he had trusted her this time, really trusted her… but it appeared that was not so. He had offended her by insulting her prior efforts to save him at Evans' estate, where she had in fact unknowingly caused his own change. So small a thing… it had ruined his life. The guilt did not seem as much as she had expected it to be now though… there were bigger matters at stake; he just didn't realise that yet. How could he?

                "How could you keep things from me again?" he began at once, his southern beginning to flow more into his accent, and she listened intently so as not to miss the slightest detail of his words, even as she noticed he had left his own cabin wide open to everyone else, people who would unwittingly listen in on their conversation, something that deserved to be private and shared only between the two of them.

                "Tom… close the door."

                "How could you betray my trust, if only slightly, again?"

                "The door, Tom-"

                "I thought you might have learned from the past that lying and hiding things only gets people hurt, and you claim to feel for me. How could you do this?"

                "Tom!" Their eyes met and locked for what felt like hours. It was, in reality, only a few seconds, she knew, but it weighed on her heavily, and she said in conclusion, "Close the door…"

                Swinging out behind him with his booted foot – he had reclaimed them once aboard the Nautilus – he slammed it shut. Anise winced, and sighed. She would have to use all of her patience to make the American see reason… why was he always jumping to conclusions?

                You act as if you know this man… last time you got close, you betrayed him, and look where that got you. She sighed again, rubbing her temples as Tom stared at her with narrowed eyes. She was starting to get a headache. I should tell him the truth… he deserves it this time.

                He relaxed only slightly, a subtle loosening of his muscles and limbs that was undetectable to the naked eye. She noticed though. She wasn't sure why, but she did… and she did not know whether or not to be comforted by this. She watched the expression as it faltered slightly on his face, before he launched into a rant again, "I trusted you, and now I find out you've been keeping things from me… regardless or not of whether its specifically about me, what am I supposed to think, huh? How am I supposed to feel about that?"

                She turned on him, her hair whirling about her face as she said, "Enough!"

                Tom jumped back only slightly, his whole body on the alert should Anise attack… not that she would… would she? She looked rather angry all of a sudden, a hidden fire in her brown eyes as she stared into his face, seemingly running extremely thin on patience. He could hear her rapid breathing, see the tension in her own body, and suddenly she closed her eyes, letting an exhausted sigh escape her lips as her head hung slightly.

                "Anise-"

                "I did not mean to hurt you, don't you understand? How many times can I apologise for that?" she began, the pain of his past accusations rising again in her voice and flowing through, striking him and making him frown, almost guiltily.

                Then he remembered the outcome of all of it, and hardened again, his jaw tightening slightly, his fists clenching for a moment and his eyes narrowing subtlely, enough to give off the impression of irritation. "This is different."

                "Yes it is, and all I wanted to do was see what was going to happen before I told you what we know."

                "We?" Tom took a step forward, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes further in perplexity. "We? They knew as well… Dmitri and Lei? You could tell them but you couldn't tell me?" The revelation had hurt, but perhaps more than it should have.

                You're starting to get possessive, he realised with a slight pang of shame. She wasn't his property… she was a person – well, lycanthrope strictly – and she had her own rights to make up her own mind and tell whomever she chose whatever she wanted. It wasn't up to him, and he had to get used to that… if he totalled up the amount of time over the past year he had spent with her, it was only about a month… he had never realised before, yet he felt so comfortable – most of the time – with her. The only other person who made him feel that way was Mina… but they had grown rather distant since his change.

                Don't let the League slip away, he told himself, and looked Anise in the eye.

                "Yes, I could tell them, because I did not know what had become of you and if I would ever see you again. And when we met in that field, I did not know if I could trust you or the L-"

                "Excuse me?" he blurted. "You didn't know if you could trust us?" Despite his better judgement, he threw his head back slightly, hands tracing through his hair, and he barked out a laugh, bitter and humourless, before snapping his head forward again, close to hers, growling, "You shouldn't have a problem with trust, unless it's the worry that if people find out what sort of individual you are they would never let you into their lives because you tried to kill someone you claimed to love!"

                "I did not try to kill you! I told you this before!"

                "Kill, sire, it's all the same to me!"

                Her eyes burned with anger as she grumbled, "So you feel dead right now? This-" She waved her hand emphatically over his torso, eyes wandering for a moment, "is death to you? You do not realise what you are capable of? You are more powerful than any of your 'friends'-"

                "Don't bring them into this. They don't trust you, and frankly, neither do I right now. I went with you earlier because I thought I was safe with you. Turns out you've been slaughtering livestock-"

                "To stay alive."

                "-and there are three werewolves chasing you… and you won't tell me why… the man you betrayed, lured into your trust and pretended to feel for."

                "I do feel for you, for crying out loud!" Her accent was slipping subtlely, and there was nothing she could do right then to stop it, it seemed. Her rage was bubbling near the surface, and though he wasn't sure, he thought he saw a flash of yellow in her brown eyes, just below the compassion that was ever fading during their conflict.

                "Then how can you treat me this way? Where I come from, trust is honesty and loyalty, not deceit and misdirection!"

                "I did not know the three were there at that very moment, all right? How was I supposed to know?"

                Tom glared. "Smell them, perhaps? I thought werewolves had heightened senses, after all."

                "There is no need to be sarcastic," she rumbled, quite literally. A low rattle of a snarl was bubbling in her throat.

                Would she really attack me? Tom wondered, eyeing her sceptically. He began shaking his head, holding up his hands, saying, "I can't deal with this. I'm going to talk with the others; see what they think we should do. Obviously, you're hiding something, and if you won't tell me, then it's something important, something you don't want us to know."

                He turned and walked for the door, but before he made it, something grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar and – painfully enough – the hair at the rear of his skull, tearing him back and throwing him down. His back slammed into the floor, and he bit off a cry, shortly before Anise came down on him, pinning his wrists with her hands tightly, and using her knees – as she had once before – to stop his legs from freeing him. He wriggled, but she pushed down tighter. Her breathing was rugged and unsteady, as if she was panicked, and her eyes were indeed yellow.

                "Let go of me, Anise," Tom said quietly, a subtle threat, not wanting her to go through with something she might regret forever.

                She did not react, nor did she blink even slightly. Her teeth were bared, and they were more pointed than they should have been.

                "Anise," he began anew, and he forced the growl down at the potential challenge, before his anger reached boiling point, and he bellowed, "let go of me!"

                He gave an almighty shove off the floor with as much of his body as he could manage, and successfully unbalanced Anise enough to reclaim the use of his right hand, which he landed against her shoulder in a solid blow that sent her back, before he flipped to his feet, with a loud, threatening growl, deep and menacing, and frightening even to the owner.

                "Move out of the way," he warned when he realised she had blocked the door. She shook her head vehemently. "Don't do something you might regret, Anise, please… don't do this to yourself again."

                "Then let me tell you what you wish to know… then maybe you will trust me enough to listen, all right?" she offered, breathless and shaking. The yellow had receded from her eyes, and she regarded him as a human, not as the wolf. Her teeth were no longer pointed and dangerous.

                He took this into account, and sighed loudly, arching his back slightly to test his spine for injuries under the shirt. His healing battle wounds were responding to the crash to the floor, but he fought down the discomfort, and said quietly with a slight edge only, "So what is it?"

                She cradled her head in her hands for a moment, and sighed heavily, filled with obvious reluctance. She looked back up at him, and walked around his body, settling herself gently and silently on the end of his bed, hands knitted before her as she broke into an explanation; "Not long ago, we discovered – Lei, Dmitri and I – that there were more werewolves in the area, and they were waiting or searching for someone… we didn't know who."

                Tom nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and looming in the middle of the room, unaware of how imposing he appeared to the casual onlooker. His eyes were still slightly narrowed, and stared right at Anise.

                She continued, barely changing her tone as she spoke, "There were three… and they were American, we soon discovered."

                Tom perked up as she said this, and he interrupted, "American?"

                "Yes." She raised her eyes to meet his gaze, and held it. "But they are different from you. They are ruthless and almost like soldiers in an army. They do not seem to think for themselves, almost… as if they are being controlled, which is impossible."

                "Why is it impossible?" he found himself asking.

                She ignored his question with a light shrug, and persisted on her original explanation, "We tried to find out as much information from the local villagers as we could, and we visited Maggie-"

                "Maggie?"

                "The woman who lived on the outskirts of town… she helped Dmitri with his more… bestial urges, you could say. She was really a lovely woman."

                Tom swallowed the dry feeling in his throat and winced in preparation for the answer to his own question, "Was?"

                "They ripped her apart, Tom… they murdered her… and we don't know why. We only know that she had no chance of surviving, and the locals would think it was us. That is why we had that fence surrounding our building, and why we had to resort to stealing livestock to survive. They… the werewolves, only came after us… when…" She trailed off, her eyes wavering and then she locked them on his face.

                He almost stepped back from her. "Oh, don't tell me that." He turned from her to go out of the door, reluctant to listen to any more conspiracy theories regarding people pursuing him for whatever reason. It always seemed that Anise brought it down on him when she was around.

                She was behind him quickly, but instead of pulling him back, she laid a hand around his waist from behind, and said quietly, "Please… listen to my thoughts? I may be completely wrong… but it would not hurt to hear them."

                Leaning his head back softly, he felt it brush carefully against Anise's, and he let out a slow breath, closing his eyes, and murmuring, "All right."

                Allan sat in the chair at the head of the table, leaned back, hand partially covering his mouth in pensive consideration of what Lei Cheung and Dmitri – as they had introduced themselves respectively – had just revealed, both in fact and potential fiction. It only served to intensify – and quite vehemently – his concern for young Sawyer, and he wished to know where the American was and if he was okay. He was still trying to fathom all of this werewolf 'nonsense' and catalogue it all sensibly in his mind… something he was having trouble doing right then.

                Skinner was on his fourth scotch, and barely showing a sign of intoxication… not that any of them would really have been able to tell. He was completely invisible, save for the dismembered trilby. Harker was standing at the other end of the table, not too far from Cheung and Dmitri, all three silent, and equally pensive. Nemo was standing nearer to the side of the room, arms folded behind his back, and every now and then he took to pacing, whilst Jekyll sat to the right of Allan with a concerned edge to his features, clearly thinking things through as carefully as he could.

                "So what are we going to do?" Skinner mumbled from his place to the hunter's left, turning his glass round and round on the tabletop with a slight tinkling noise as he did so. The hat turned from Harker to Allan, as if in conflict as to who was in charge. Allan was no longer so sure of that himself. He had always thought Sawyer would make a fine leader, but it seemed he had other priorities and problems to worry about.

                "How can we do anything?" Jekyll muttered in response, sounding a little too dejected for Allan's liking. The hunter sighed subtlely, but he noticed the doctor's eyes glanced to him only briefly, as though he had heard the noise. It wouldn't have completely surprised Allan if Jekyll – or Hyde – had.

                "We can do whatever is in our power, Doctor Jekyll," Harker interjected clearly, meeting the man's rather timid gaze. "I will not give up, despite the odds. I will not be stopped by three werewolves, no matter how brutal, determined or vicious."

                Allan smiled wanly. She was indeed a fine woman after all, in more ways than one. She seemed to have a good head for leadership, something he himself had overlooked entirely at first due to his wariness of the female of the species and their tendency to 'distract', therefore leading to trouble. "How can anyone argue with that?" he offered confidently, looking Mina Harker in the eye and giving her a nod.

                The woman seemed almost taken aback, as though the subtle motion of approval stunned her, and she was shocked that the man had given in to her reasoning. He wasn't exactly submitting to her, but she had been in the company of these people longer, and in that aspect, she truly did have the advantage. She knew them better, their weaknesses and strengths, who they really were, and what they would do for one another. True, Allan had his expectations, but with his past, that would not get him very far in reality. He admired the woman's approach.

                "But we should not be making any decision regarding a course of action until Sawyer and Delacroix return from wherever they went. After all, it would appear – from Miss Cheung and Dmitri's account that is – that our Agent companion is a key factor. It would be unwise to count him out on the vote, would it not?" Nemo had stopped pacing, and strode over to the table.

                That was when the doors to the lengthy room opened, and side by side, the two young individuals stepped into the opening with purpose and confidence, Sawyer announcing, "We need to go to America… now."

A/N2: Okay, so feel free to hate me for dragging this out, but one can't argue with their own chapter plan can they? Okay… so maybe they can but I've already tweaked it slightly, and I'm not really keen to do it again, lol. This is quite a long update to make up for the delay (hopefully) and I look forward to hearing your opinions. Thanks for your patience and reading!