CHAPTER 2
THE DANCER
2001
Kitsap County Fairgrounds, Washington
Tatjana Batresmith danced, and with her danced the passions of a people that had been plagued with generations of misunderstandings. She danced not because she had to, but because she wished to bring the beauty of her people to those who watched her, those in her thrall. That, and a few coins, would buy meals for her kumpania tonight. The coins, that was easy. Her pena, Yvonne, and prala, Nikolai, would make sure of that. They worked the crowd of transfixed on-lookers, and tonight's audience promised a tidy sum. Most likely, it would pay for several nights of fine dining. But still she danced, and prayed that those who had their wallets filched would take some of the beauty she revealed to them back to their homes tonight. Tomorrow, the Kumpania Batresmith would be on the road once more, far from the Kitsap County Fairgrounds, and the gaje they had performed for would likely only remember them as "those thieving gypsies".
She whirled about in her colorful gypsy skirts and performed the traditional Zapaderin with breathtaking skill. Tonight, and the audience, were hers. She saw it in the glazed look in their eyes and smelled it in the post-rain air. She whipped her jet-black hair around, and felt them surrender even more of themselves to her. Her body gyrated and twisted with liquid grace, promising a sexual experience none would soon forget, but leaving it at only a promise. A tease. A wistful, lustful thought to be relived time and time again. She would haunt their dreams and fill their fantasies, because nothing that risqué could ever be won outside of mortal dreams. Her hips and pout spoke volumes of the guaranteed ecstasy and rapture. Her eyes told all they made contact with an unconditional love she held for each. Her hands wove sensual patterns of lovers' caresses and wanton abandonment. And yet, when she danced, she remained unattainable. She was their Goddess of Motion and Gracefulness. She was their one want and desire.
He dance lasted only fifteen minutes, but as she finished, she knew that she would spend the night in many chimerical beds. They would remember. She could smell the arousal in the air, its heady musk thick and aromatic. With a deep curtsey, she left the makeshift stage and headed for the trailer she shared with her brother and sister. Nikolai and Yvonne would be waiting there with the night's "earnings".
It took a few moments for the audience's minds to catch up with the present. All tried to commit the scene to long-term memory, then applauded loudly. Tatjana felt pride swell up in her bosom. The beauty of the Rom had been communicated.
A lone figure stood in the throng, and though he had been completely enraptured by the performance of the magnificent and mysterious woman, he could not bring himself to clap. Worry and concern had etched themselves into his features, and he searched near his feet for the package he had been on his way to deliver before he'd been sidetracked.
When he could find no trace of it, RanMichael Berlanger' knew his Toreador curse had betrayed him yet again. But this time, he was in real trouble.
Closing the door behind her, Tatjana asked, "So, what did we walk away with?"
"We're still counting, but it looks very good," Nikolai replied enthusiastically. His roguish smile said it was well more than previously anticipated. "Very, VERY good."
"Of course," Yvonne piped in, "you know that father will want at least half for the Kumpania, but…" her somewhat dour expression turned to a smile, "and you did very well tonight as well. I have never seen you perform so well."
"Why, thank you," Tatjana curtsied again, and her brother and sister laughed with her. Spirits were always high after a successful bujo, scam, but the compliment from Yvonne meant more to Tatjana than the money. "I believe my performance can be attributed to Baba Ellen. She did a reading for me this morning and said that 'change and great passion' would be in my future. Her words inspired me."
"Yes, but remember," Yvonne cautioned, serious-faced once more, "Passion is not always a good emotion."
"Aye," Tatjana replied and with a graceful twirl of her skirts, plopped herself into a vacant chair, "but my heart promises me more this time," she continued wistfully and dreamy-eyed.
Nikolai laughed, "Oh, no. Not that again. We'll be nursing her broken heart within a fortnight."
Tatjana snatched up a pillow from underneath the chair and hurled it at her brother, who deflected it with practiced ease. "You will not!" she cried indignantly and now on the defensive, "This time will be different. I am no longer the heartsick child you believe me to be. I am a woman now, and my heart has learned from its mistakes. Besides," she stuck out her chin defiantly, "the visions have come to me, and Baba Ellen says that they will come to pass."
"Visions?" Yvonne's head rose from counting, "What visions? Have the dreams begun again?" There was worry in her voice, as the past had taught her well to fear Tatjana's dreams.
"Oh," Tatjana waved her hand at her sister and smiled a reassuring smile. "It was nothing like the old ones. This was a good one. I dreamt of big changes, heralded by the coming of a package." She beamed at her siblings, wanting them to smile back and put the past behind them.
Nikolai and Yvonne looked at each other stunned, but seeming to communicate volumes in their pause. Finally, Nikolai turned toward his younger sister, cleared his throat and spoke, "A package, huh?" He tried to cover his nervousness with a faltering smile and false bravado, but it was still apparent that something was amiss. "Then, maybe, you can explain this." He reached down next to his chair and picked up an item that lay near his feet.
Tatjana's eyes widened as her dreams showed that they had one foot in reality, and the herald had arrived.
The music, the laughter, the company, the songs and stories; Ani-Ket-Roo found all these things intoxicating. Many of his journeys lead him down paths that he must walk alone, but he welcomed the opportunities that allowed him to travel with companions, especially the Kumpania Batresmith. He had traveled with other kumpanias of Rom, but the Batresmith family always made him feel the least like an outsider. Rune Batresmith himself had actually made Roo an honorary member several years ago when Roo had stumbled across a fomor that had been about to attack Tatjana and Yvonne. Unfortunately for the Wyrm-twisted human, Ani-Ket-Roo was not a defenseless as he first appeared. He had been blessed at birth by Gaia to run with the moon and be one of Her warriors, a Garou. The fomor had been ill prepared to deal with such, and was now buried where he would never be found.
From that day forward, Kumpania Batresmith had welcomed him with open arms, and always understood when the road took him in a different direction than they were traveling. He wished he could stay with them more frequently, but his loyalties must first lie with Gaia and the battle against the corruption of the Wyrm. The kumpania realized the lot he had drawn in life was a harsh and bitter road, and always gave him solace when he returned.
For two weeks now he had roamed with them. From place to place, show to show, and his duties had not beckoned him elsewhere as of yet. It was an appreciated respite for the Silent Strider, and gave him the opportunity to spend some quality time with his second family.
His days had been spent wisely, or so he believed. He brought smiles to many of the kumpania's faces, learned a new trick or two (had taken to juggling like a duck takes to water), and had even managed to teach a few lessons of his own in the enigmatic Ragabash way. Not all of his teachings were completely appreciated as of yet, but Roo knew that they would be in the long run.
During his stay, he also found himself growing very fond of several of the kumpania, but none so much as Tatjana. She had been a wonderful girl, and during the time he had been away from the family, had blossomed into a beautiful woman. He found her zest for life and, despite her trade, romantic innocence refreshing and revitalizing. Merely being in her presence did his soul good. To hear her laugh, and to see her smile, was the medicine he needed to erase the loneliness that sprung from his solitary life. She, within a very short time, had carved her own little, personal niche in his heart. It had shocked him the day he realized that he had fallen for her; and he now kept it hidden away, afraid of the cost of such emotion in his life.
Now, Roo wandered the camp, listening to laughter and a dozen conversations all blending together, and trying to keep Tatjana from dancing in his thoughts. Tonight had been good for the kumpania, both on the legal side and otherwise, and spirits were high. Only a few of the gaje, outsiders, remained, getting their palms read or buying trinkets of protection and charms of love. When the last of these were gone, the real festivities would truly begin. A wild night of singing and celebration. In the morning, the kumpania would be packed up and headed down the road towards their next stop.
"Uncle Roo," a timid voice came from behind him.
He turned, smiling, and was not surprised to find Emily, the youngest of Rune Batresmith's eighteen children. The six-year-old was destined for great beauty, and had already learned how best to put her enormous green eyes to good use. They could melt the heart of even the most stone-souled son-of-a-bitch. Her raven hair had never been cut and hung nearly to her waist, and on her lips, a cherub-like pout played. In her tiny hands, she held an ornately carved box.
"Yes, young one," Roo knelt to be at eye level with the girl, "How may I be of assistance?" He flipped his black curls out of his eyes and his olive complexion split into a reassuring grin.
She held out the box to him, it looked gigantic in her hands, "Can you fix it? It won't work right."
Roo's smile broadened a bit, "Well, you have certainly come to the right place. I just happen to be an expert 'Box-Fixer-Upper'."
Taking the box into his own hands, Roo marveled at the craftsmanship. A beautifully tooled picture of swans and ivy decorated its deep brown surface, and it was quite a bit lighter than he had expected it to be. The hands of a master had been at work here, and no detail seemed to have been overlooked. Even the hinges and wooden clasp blended into the scenery of Emily's little treasure. For a moment, Roo began to wonder from where the girl had acquired it, but decided that it really didn't matter.
Working the clasp with his thumb, Roo opened the box. A tinny commenced and a small ballerina in the middle began to spin in an eternal pirouette. Roo let out a small laugh of surprise and delight. He hadn't seen a music box in many years, but it was just as he remembered. The craftsmanship of this one far surpassed any he'd seen before, but the similarities were still there as well.
He watched it for a few seconds, and just as he was about to ask what was wrong with it, it happened. The pirouette and music slowed quickly, dying out. The final notes of the tune gave off an ominous quality, and the night seemed to darken a bit.
A familiar feeling crept into Roo's body. His hands tingled and guts twisted. Something was drastically wrong.
The music bow forgotten or the moment, he scanned the immediate vicinity for any signs of the impending danger he felt. The camp, itself, had taken on a dreamlike quality. Colors seemed both darker and brighter at the same time. The corners of his vision blurred into nothingness, and only snatches of the nearby conversations made it to his ears.
"… and as the fae folk danced, Luthnar could only watch," an old woman spun a tale for children congregated around a campfire.
"… the spirits of the water dance with your child," another woman congratulated a couple, handing them back their newborn.
"… never seen the Zapaderin danced so well," an awed voice commented.
"Yes," remarked another, "her dancing skills have improved remarkably."
"She won't dance anymore," complained the girl in front of Roo.
He looked down, but his eyes did not seek out Emily. They rested on the still ballerina instead. Her dance was done. It felt like a stone had landed on Roo's heart at the thought of it. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was trying to pass a message along to him through signs and portents. A part of him felt that he understood the message; the rest hoped he was wrong. Someone – or something – was trying to stop the dancer from dancing. In his gut, he knew who that dancer was.
"Can you fix it?"
Roo looked at the girl, a bit startled to see her. Reality snapped back into place, but the sense of dread remained, hanging like a death shroud in the air. Something terrible was on its way, and its target had been revealed to him. Tatjana!
"Sorry, Emily," Roo spoke hurriedly, pushing the box back into the child's hands. She barely had time to get a secure grip on it, before he spun on his heel and ran for Tatjana's trailer.
"I hope I can fix it," Roo thought, and prayed he was not already too late.
High in the sky, she hung. A gleaming beacon, whispering secrets down to her children. Many of those children accepted the gifts they had received from Luna; but, either through ignorance or uncaring, did not heed Her more subtle voice. They had seemingly forgotten how the hear Her soft voice, riding on the night's winds. They had forgotten that part of Her, making the night all the darker for them. Davian Skywolf was not one of those "lost" children. He had stared up at Her beauty for countless hours, basking in the wisdom She revealed, but tonight he could not allow himself that luxury.
On first glimpse of Her this night, Davian had felt his Rage surge and replenish as usual, then he had witnessed the only secret She had wished to share. The sky had tinged Her this evening, giving Her a deep crimson tint.
"A sanguine moon," he thought. A night of truly bloody work lay ahead, and a shadow of apprehension passed through his core. The prize for this evening could very possibly speed up or delay the coming of The Apocalypse. Powerful forces were at work, and - as if Luna had spoken directly to him - Davian knew he was a player in the game.
Gathering up his meager belongings hastily, Davian Skywolf, Theurge of the Uktena, headed off in a random direction. He knew that his destiny would embrace him.
"TATJANA!"
Roo burst through the door, nearly knocking Nikolai from his feet, and causing Yvonne to drop the wad of bills she just counted.
"Damn it, Roo," Nikolai complained, leaning against the chair he'd caught himself with, "What the hell is your…"
"Where's Tat?" Roo interrupted, hi frantic tone silencing Nikolai at once.
"I'm here."
Roo's head whipped around to find Tatjana emerging from the back room. Relief rushed through him. He wasn't too late to stop whatever was coming. She was safe for the moment, and if he had his way, the dance would dance again.
Breathing a sigh of alleviation, Roo relaxed a bit, "I was just worried…" He eyes locked onto the package in her hands. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, as goosebumps erupted the length of his arms. The discreetly wrapped box caused Ani-Ket-Roo's stomach to roll in protest. Its mere presence seemed to foul the air. Whatever the package contained, it was not of benign origin. It was of the Wyrm. "What's that?" he managed, barely containing the notes of disgust and not taking his eyes from the offensive item.
Tatjana looked down at the package and shrugged almost nonchalantly, "Oh, this? Just something Nikolai nicked off one of the gaje. I dreamed of it. It is the herald of great changes," Tatjana's eyes grew wide. They were the eyes of a child that sees only the wonder in things, not the danger. "I was just about to open it." Her finger slid under a corner of the plain, brown wrapping that had been worked loose.
"NO!" Roo sprang forward, prepared to knock the profane thing from her hands if need be.
The sudden cry startled Tatjana, and her hand fell away from the corner, as she retreated a step from Roo. Fear filled her eyes and she looked to her siblings for support, but both seemed completely frozen by the spectacle unfolding before them.
"What… what," her bottom lip quivered, and tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. The man she had come to see as her "protector" had looked at her with such stark anger and naked terror that coherent thought escaped her.
The immediate danger past, his features softened. He took a tentative step towards her, holding out his hand to show her that she was safe. "Do not open it," he said as calmly as he could. "Something is very wrong here. I think we should get someone to look at that," he gestured to the package, "before we allow it to bring any changes. Remember, change is not always a good thing. And no good can come from that."
Tatjana nodded slowly. She respected Roo, and his instincts seemed to be as good as anyone she had ever known. Perhaps it would be best if someone did look into this.
"Where do we go?" her voice cracked, and she absently wiped at the tears.
Roo stepped in closer and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "We go to my people."
Once again, Tatjana's eyes widened. She was, as was most of the Batresmith Kumpania, kinfolk, but very few had ever been asked into one of the caerns. These rare and holy places for the garou were the sites of their greatest magics and were jealously guarded. Kinfolk often tended to the secured area around the caern, called the bawn, but they were almost never permitted any closer. From the look in Roo's eyes, he meant to take her in.
"But… but," she started.
"We have no time to debate. We must move, and move quickly before ('she won't dance anymore')," Roo instinctively gulped, "before it's too late. I must go gather my things. Pack while I am gone."
Roo turned, leaving a bewildered Tatjana.
As his hand touched the doorknob he paused and looked over his shoulder. "We must travel quickly, so take only what you need. Pack light." Turning back to the door, he opened it and paused again. Once more, he looked over his shoulder. With a sheepish grin, he added, "Then put half of it back," and was gone into the night.
Less than twenty minutes later, Roo was hurrying Tatjana out the door. As he pushed, she shouted her good-byes to her brother and sister. Once again, the feeling of dread within her breast had turned to a much lighter sense of adventure. Tonight she would see things that few kinfolk were privy to. Tonight she would see the larger world.
Outside, the full moon shone, and the air seemed crisp with tension and excitement. Ani-Ket-Roo watched the shadows apprehensively, but Tatjana could only close her eyes and breath the cool night air in deeply.
"Come on," Roo took her hand and pulled her towards the shadows on the side of the trailer. "There is one more thing I must do."
In a more complete darkness, she could feel his eyes on her, and she heard his breathing taking on a rhythmic pace, as if he had fallen asleep.
"What are you doing?"
Shushing her, he continued the breathing for several minutes. She heard him move, then felt his hand on her arm.
"Wha…" then energy coursed through her. The ache and weariness in her legs from dancing washed away. Muscles unknotted and she felt completely refreshed and revitalized, ready for anything, as if she would be able to run eight back-to-back marathons and still be capable of a long night of dancing.
"Oh, wow," she sighed, not having realized how exhausted she had been. "That's quite a trick. What did you do?"
"I have given you the fortitude of the messenger. This will help us get to our destination quickly." She had never heard Roo with such seriousness in his voice. "Come. It is time we went."
His hand slipped into hers and they stepped from the shadows. They had taken three steps from the trailer when the screaming began.
"Find her! Find the dancer and she will know where my package is," RanMichael yelled at a leather-clad vampire.
"Ease off, gov'nor," Mitchell's thick Australian accent grated on RanMichael's nerves. "Me boys will find yer precious package."
RanMichael rounded on Mitchell. "Your 'boys' lack even the smallest hint of intelligence. If they fail, I'll have your head on a pla…"
Mitchell's hand shot out and seized RanMichael by the throat, silencing him. Eyes smoldering and fangs bared, Mitchell hoisted the struggling toreador a few inches off the ground and held him there. No one talked to the leader of Talimor's Havoc like that. Not if they wanted to live. The gang of anarchs may be a lot of things, but lap dogs to the likes of this pompous fool was not one of them.
"Looky here, mate," spat Mitchell, "We are here as a FAVOR to you. You're the bloomin' idiot wot got yerself into this fix. You came to us help, and we agreed. If you don't want to play friendly, we'll set new terms for the deal. I give a rat's ass if you see that package ever again. But you… you want it real bad. Must be important. So," Mitchell lowered RanMichael back to the ground, "if you want to see it and keep those boyish good looks of yours, I advise you to keep your gob shut and let us 'andle this."
Mitchell watched the anger flood into RanMichael's face and mentally dared him to push his luck, but Ran composed himself, taking a moment to readjust his shirt collar and straighten his hair. His eyes locked with Mitchell's for the briefest instant, then he turned away.
"Do what you must."
With a cocky nod to RanMichael's back, Mitchell turned back to the task at hand. "Boys," he shouted, "find the package and bring it 'ere." And, as if an afterthought, "Kill who you have to."
The screams were terrible. Ani-Ket-Roo wanted to go and help his second family, but knew that whatever or whoever was attacking must be after the package. Every instinct he possessed screamed that he could not allow it to fall into their hands. Much as it pained him, he had to leave the Kumpania to fend for itself.
Tatjana tried to run towards the screams, crying out for her father and several of her siblings. Roo tightened his grip and pulled her away, his own heart breaking a little more with each scream.
Rage swelled in him, like a storm blown sea pounding on the coast. He wanted to kill, to destroy those who had dared to attack his haven, but protecting Tatjana and her parcel must come first. He fought the Rage, blinked back the tears, and, pulling his ward in tow, began to run.
Gibber laughed as he tossed the old man's lifeless body to the ground. "God damn, this rocks!" He glanced around, searching for another victim, and saw two figures darting between some of the garishly decorated trailers.
The male in the lead was of unimpressive stature. He moved with an athletic gait, but to the vampire's eyes, registered as a minimal threat at best. His face was a mixture of rage and pain, his jaw clenched and eyes fixed resolvedly away from the fray. He wanted to fight, but chose to escape instead.
Trailing behind the man was a beautiful girl. She fought against him weakly as he pulled her away. Her tear-filled eyes turned back towards the camp again and again. Clutched tightly to her chest was a package wrapped in brown paper. A package that was just about the same size they had been instructed to search for.
A cruel smile crawled across Gibber's lips as his eyes followed the pair. "Hey, Misha," he called to a nearby clan mate, "we got ourselves a couple birds on the run. I think they got what we want. Grab some of the guys and let's go have a little fun."
A few encouraging tugs was all it took to really get Tatjana moving. Now she cried and ran blindly, relying on Roo to guide her to safety. All thoughts of a romantic adventure were wiped from her mind, replaced by the reality of screams in the night and the heady smell of blood. Roo wished he could have protected her innocence as well, but her life would have to suffice for now.
They had not traveled far from the camp when Roo caught the scent of their pursuers. After a few cursory glances over his shoulder, he swore softly to himself. There were at least four of them and they were gaining quickly. On his own, he could have taken the package, shifted into his wolf-form, and left them far behind; but he would not leave Tatjana to the same fate that had befallen the encampment.
Quickly weighing the options, he came to the conclusion that they would not likely be able to outrun the vampires. He could turn and face them, but in an open fight he was not sure that he would be able to protect himself and Tatjana from four or more opponents. No. A fight was imminent, but it couldn't be on open ground. If they were to have any chance at all, Roo would have to find a place where he could face his attackers one or two at a time. He was not very confident in his skills as a warrior, but he saw no other choice.
On they ran, Roo looking desperately for a place to make their stand. A place that would benefit Tatjana and himself, yet hinder their attackers.
Coming into a thicket of pines, the figure of a wolf leapt out in front out in front of them, snarling menacingly. The wolf's skin melted away quickly, transforming into the shape of a man. The design of white flames on black leather shone clearly in the gloom.
Without breaking stride and with quick-draw grace, Roo drew a sawed-off double-barreled shotgun from under his coat and leveled it at the vampire's throat. Roo squeezed both triggers.
Misha's hand flashed out with superhuman speed, slapping the barrel up as the weapon fired.
For a moment, Roo thought he had missed, but as the smoke cleared he saw differently. The top half, from the nose up, of Misha's head was simply no longer there. Time seemed to slow as Roo watched the body with morbid fascination. Almost giddily, he wondered why it was still standing. Finally, it's knees buckled and it toppled over, snapping Roo from his reverie.
RELOAD! he thought suddenly, remembering that there were more of them. He released Tatjana's hand and went for the extra shells in his pocket. He had managed to fish two out and was starting to turn, when a jarring blow sent him one direction, the shells another, and the shotgun yet another.
He hit the ground and tried to roll, but whatever had hit him landed on top of him. It laughed gleefully and slapped him in the face.
Roo let his Rage out; his body shifted to Crinos, and with a mighty buck and a howl, sent the vampire into one of the pines.
"Lupine!" swore one of the vampires.
"Well, well," Gibber strode into sight, "looks like our lucky night. We found the package, a beautiful woman, and a dog-boy to dispose of."
Checking his surroundings, Roo saw that the gang of vampires had taken up four corners on him. One, a female, held Tatjana, one hand tight on Tat's left bicep, the other threatening her throat.
The words came hard through Roo's Rage clouded mind, but he managed, "Leeches… Let… Girl… Go!" His hands clenched and unclenched, wanting to tear those unholy creatures to shreds.
"Now, now," tsked Gibber, "then what would we have to negotiate with?"
Roo tensed, preparing to pounce on one of them, and rescue Tatjana by force. The vampires seemed to sense his intentions and prepared for the coming attack. A hush fell over the group.
"Ahem." The sound broke through the silence, followed by a metallic snap-click. All eyes turned toward the sound.
A kid in his late teens stood facing the group with a Zippo in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other. Long bangs hung down in his face, while the rest of his long hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His eyes never left the group as he nonchalantly brought the cigarette and lighter to his lips. Unblinkingly, he puffed twice to make sure it was lit and with a flick of his wrist doused the flame with a metallic snap.
Stepping from the shadows, the bright moonlight washed over the kid as he walked calmly towards the group. Pausing a few feet from the group, the kid looked up at the moon. A sleight smile played across his lips, as he seemed to bask in the light. Roo and the vampires looked on, struck dumb by curiosity. None seemed to know what to make of the stranger.
After a dramatic pause, the kid, eyes still on the moon, spoke, "Nice night for a party." His eyes sank back down to his audience, "Don't you agree?" He bean to peel of his jacket off, revealing the well-defined arms beneath. Half folding the jacket, he dropped it at his feet. Clad only in his T-shirt and jeans, the kid looked rather impressive. "But," he continued, "I don't think the lady wants any part of it. I suggest you let her go," he flashed a toothy smile at the female holding Tatjana, "before I rip off your arms and shove them somewhere very uncomfortable."
The threat seemed to snap everyone back into reality.
"Beat it, punk," Gibber chided, "This doesn't concern you. Run home to mama before she realizes you are out past curfew."
"Boy, you're quite the witty one, aren'tcha," sarcasm dripped from the kid's lips, "You know, you must be at least seven different kinds of stupid, and you're really starting to piss me off."
"Right," Gibber shrugged, "we just add one more corpse to tonight's agenda."
As Gibber lunged at the kid, Roo pounced. His claws dug deep into the she-vampire's throat. She burbled what was meant to be a scream and tumbled backwards. Her nails tore furrows in Tatjana's neck and rich, crimson blood began to well up from the wound. With wide eyes, Tatjana stumbled backwards, hands at her throat. She stumbled and tumbled over. Roo howled in fury and tore into his wounded enemy with vigor, sending blood in wide arcs through the air.
When Gibber came at him, the kid smiled a predatory smile. Diving for the neck of the kid, the anarch slammed into the powerful chest of another Crinos instead. This one was bigger than Roo by over a foot and a half in height and a good 150 pounds of muscle.
Suddenly, Gibber wasn't so sure about this whole scenario. He counted all his mistakes in a breath's time. He should have reported to Mitchell that they'd seen the package and brought the whole gang. He should have quickly killed the two rather than toying with them. He should have known the kid was a lupine. Gibber looked at his adversary. The last thing he saw was the glittering of saliva-coated fangs before they claimed his face. The mighty jaws clamped down and, with a loud pop and spray of gore, Gibber's unlife ceased.
Rushing to Tatjana's side, Roo immediately recognized the seriousness of her wounds. She was losing blood at an alarming rate and would likely bleed to death if she did not receive attention in the very bear future.
Shifting back to Homid, he tore off a piece of his shirt and began to apply pressure to the injury. He hoped the kid could finish off the other two alone; he just couldn't bring himself to leave Tatjana. Gaia, he prayed, don't let her die.
The two remaining anarchs squared off with the new garou. Splitting up, they began to circle him, setting him up so he would not be able to face the both simultaneously. The kid kept turning, trying to keep both in view. One feinted an attack; he shifted to face it, realized his mistake, and barely avoided the other. He countered with a rake, but caught only air. These guys were good. They had learned from Gibber's mistake and would not rush in to die a fool's death like he had. These would take more skill to kill. Well, a little more, the kid thought, noticing a pattern in one's steps.
Timing his attack, he waited for the target's cross-step, then feinted his own false attack at the other. His target tried to take advantage of the garou's back, but trying to correct his mid-step left him off balance. Fatally off balance. In a blindingly quick spin and the briefest glimpse of out-stretched claws, the vampire's head went tumbling through the air.
The final anarch launched an attack of desperation. Like a cornered rodent, he attacked with all the ferocity he could. Claws tore into the werewolf's side, and the satisfaction of the blood and a yelp graced the vampire. A wounded opponent was always better than a fully healthy one.
The lupine swung back awkwardly, missing by over a foot. The vampire grinned. This big, bad werewolf seemed to have a glass jaw. Lots of power, no stamina.
The two continued to dance, turning several times. The werewolf began to sway back and forth, his wound seeming to be getting the better of him. Blood was thick in the fur at his side, but the anarch was still taking no chances.
Another circle. The stranger seemed very unstable on his feet. He swayed drastically, staggered, and dropped to a knee. His head hung heavily, as if all the fight had bled out of him. The vampire smiled and came in for the deathblow. He would surely make lieutenant for this.
Two powerful hands came up, clamping onto both sides of the anarch's head, claws digging into his skull. The werewolf looked up and the anarch could almost swear that he saw a smile on those wolf lips. The claws burrowed deeper as the werewolf used its weight and muscle to bring the vampire's head down to meet a rapidly rising knee.
With the combination of claw damage and the speeding knee, the anarch's head exploded like a ripe melon.
A fog began to settle in as the stranger shifted back down to Homid. Roo watched as the kid picked up his jacket and headed towards them. The right side of the kid's T-shirt had a spreading crimson patch.
"You two okay?" he asked.
"She's hurt bad. Do you have any talens, fetishes, or gifts of healing? Anything?" Roo was becoming frantic. He wasn't sure how long she would be able to hold on, but he didn't think it could be very much longer.
"Perhaps I may be of assistance," a voice came from the still thickening fog. Another man stepped into view, this one dressed in blue jeans and a ribbon shirt. "We must act quickly. More leeches are on the way. The fog I have summoned will hide us for a time, but we must not tarry. Now, move aside. I will tend to the girl."
Having no time to argue, Roo left his place by Tatjana's side and stood by the kid. "Thanks for the help. I am Ani-Ket-Roo, Ragabash of the Silent Striders. Most just call me 'Roo'." Roo offered his hand.
Taking the proffered hand in his strong grip, they shook. "I'm Kyle. Kyle Nines."
Roo nodded sagely, "You must be an Ahroun."
"Shrugging, "So I'm told."
Nodding towards Tatjana and the other newcomer, Roo asked, "He with you?"
Kyle sighed, "Never seen him before in my life."
"I'm Davian Skywolf, Theurge of the Uktena, and the woman shall be fine after she rests," Davian was now prodding at Kyle's wound. "She will certainly be sore for a few days, may even have trouble speaking, but that will pass." Closing his eyes, Davian placed both hands directly on Kyle's wound and applied pressure.
A moment of pain, then warmth flowed into Kyle. The pained dulled, then subsided, and then vanished completely.
"You, on the other hand, are fine. These gifts work much better on garou."
Roo knelt next to Tatjana's unconscious form, "Is she well enough to move?"
"Yes, that should be safe enough to do."
"Hey," Kyle spoke up, pulling his jacket back on. "I have a van not far from here, and I know a place that we can lay low at."
"Very well, this is acceptable, for we must all speak of things to come." Davian glanced up to where the moon was concealed by fog. "Let us go."
Roo looked to Kyle and raised an eyebrow, but Kyle only shrugged and blew a few errant hairs out of his face.
Hastily, Roo gathered up his scattered belongings, while Kyle picked up Tatjana and headed towards his van.
Davian still gazed up into the sky. "And, so, it has begun," he whispered.
