Author's Note: I am trying to make this story shorter then Denouement but no promises. To quote Pilate, "what I have written, I have written."

Chapter Eight: Kisses and Betrayals

Remus Lupin was pretending. He was pretending for a moment he was back in the old days, before death and lost had weighted his steps and took his sense of belonging. He was pretending that he was back in the days of Beatlemania and Silas' parties. During those times he had been husband to Elise Astor, the Alpha of his pack. Ezra, Elise's brother, had been the second. Back then, the Vampires were led as they had been for centuries in memoriam: by the child Daniel, flanked by his Prophetess and a bodyguard.

Isaiah and Remus had existed behind it all, watching their leaders, without being one. Isaiah had been a keeper, and a negotiator. He called himself the tailor. His job as he described it, was to smile and iron out details. He made the situation fit his clan best. Remus could claim no such position. Remus had, quite simply and without much regret, been Elise's husband. His sole duty was to adorn her arm at ceremonies and occasionally speak to outsiders with his brother Ezra at his side, to assure them Astor Pack was merely a "support group" for others like himself.

Ezra Astor…

Even now, even after all that had passed; he could never bring himself to hate Ezra though he might wish with all his might that such a thing were possible. There was still that childish devotion to his one true friend, to the Pack Leader, and his Master. There was still the blood between, both theirs and (though Remus was pained to admit it) the blood of their victims that bonded them. How could Remus, knowing what he was possibly think to ignore that? How could he undo what he was? Did it matter that Ezra was a murderer and tried to make Remus one?

Of course not. He was Ezra. Remus could forgive it all…couldn't he?

"Leave her out of this, Ezra." Remus shouted, growling deeply as he stepped to stand between Amissa and Ezra. "She's not a part of this."

"You brought her into this." Ezra countered. "When you dared choose her and her kind over your pack! After we have done everything to protect you! You betray us! For a human!"

"This isn't about pack loyalties, Ezra. It's about what's right."
"I say what is right for our pack, not you!" Ezra stepped back, arching his back as he prepared for an attack. "And you seem to have forgotten that." He tilted his head. "No matter, Riener will probably be more of an apt pupil."

At the sound of his son's name, Remus howled and tackled Ezra. The elder werewolf took hold of Remus' shoulder, lifted him up and threw him like a rag doll. Amissa screamed and moved to stand, but Ezra was quicker, driving his weight into a powerful uppercut that sent Amissa too sprawling onto the ground. Remus was up on his feet by the time Amissa slide to a rest. He paused, and called to her but there was no reply. Amissa wasn't moving, and there was a thin lip of blood coming from her mouth. He couldn't see her breathing, nor discern any sign of life.

Remus howled again, and turned back to Ezra. "You'll pay for that!" He shouted and threw himself again at his leader.

No…

Ezra had tried to kill Amissa, had threatened Riener. Maybe he had even ordered Riener and Choice's death three years ago, Remus would never know. He thought idly about how much they would never know about that terrible day back then when Voldemort had fallen but Remus had died. And indeed, he felt like he died then and all that had passed since was rehearsed and scripted. He just wanted things to make sense again.

Remus Lupin broke his dreams to watch as the light from the fireplace danced across the opposite wall. It caught the dark honeyed color of his drink and painted the walls in it. He smiled thinly as he watched it. Years ago, decades ago, he remembered sitting in the Grand Marquis' parlor sharing drinks with the Vampires and speaking of idle things.

This was when Ezra was still loved, and Kaiya some dark distant star in the future.

How idle they had been, how innocent and ignorant of the world. How terrible in their ignorance, how destructive.

And now, sitting in Isaiah's private bedroom, Remus could only feel the pain of lost, and the ghosts of the dead.

"Will you not tell me what troubles my old friend?"

Remus looked up, catching Isaiah as the Vampire leaned against the table across from him. Isaiah had never desired to be leader, and even now despite being leader for decades, seemed ill at ease in his position, not that Remus could blame him much. What was decades to a Vampire? But he was a good leader; Isaiah loved his people and wanted peace. He reminded Remus very much of himself back with Elise. Isaiah was desperately in love and loved by his mate, St. Michael. Isaiah functioned best when he and Michael were near.

It was something epic and right when they were together.

She must have been gone on some mission, Remus thought, for Isaiah looked pale and troubled. Remus thought idly, gratefully, that perhaps Isaiah was worried about him too.

Remus took another long drink of his whiskey and winced from the taste before reclining. "Who leads the Underworld now?"

Isaiah blinked, and stared at Remus. He seemed to debate about Remus' trustworthiness. Remus smiled sadly. "No man leads the underworld."

"Who hunts the Black Prince?"

Again the Vampire seemed concerned with the amount of knowledge Remus possessed. He shifted, "I don't know what you ask of, Lupin…"

"I know where the Prince is hiding."

Isaiah jerked his head forward, staring at him. His eyes seemed to narrow for a brief moment. "He lives?"

Remus took another drink, for courage. "For now. My wife is tending to him."

"A dangerous place to find yourself, friend." Isaiah warned, watching him. "Be mindful and cautious. There should be a child with him, a small girl. Is she?"

"No. But he knows where she's hiding. He refuses to tell Amissa or Severus her location though."

"Severus?" Isaiah inhaled sharply. "The Dark Lord is involved?"

Remus almost smiled. It was funny sometimes, how set in their ways the old order was, and how many still considered Snape the rightful heir to Voldemort. "The Auror" Remus corrected gently. "is protecting his son. He's pursues someone named Croix. I haven't spoken to him since he first dropped the Prince into our lap. He was going to the Malone house. Supposedly that's where Mordred was when he was attacked."

The Vampire was staring at the Wolf. "Why are you telling me all this, Lupin?"

"I'm protecting my family. Amissa's with child, and I won't have some new war endangering her. I've lost too much already." Remus laughed a little. "Funny, how that works huh?"

"What?" Isaiah whispered.

"How one day your girl says she's late, it's yours and she's going to keep it. Then, even you don't want to…suddenly, you have to be a loving parent."

Isaiah glanced behind him, towards the closed door of the parlor where Dante still lingered with all the little gods of war. Dante who had first brought Ari back to him. "Yes, I suppose it is funny."

Remus was laughing. He looked up. "So, tell me. Who is after the Prince?"

"Imre."

Remus frowned. "Imre? The teacher?"
"He's more then that now."

A pause. "No matter." Remus shrugged, "I want a promise that Amissa will not be hurt when Imre comes for the Prince."

"I will not promise that."

Remus smiled thinly. "Of course not. You promise nothing that's out of your domain. Always have been so political."

Isaiah rose then, walking towards the parlor. "You know, some people are born into leadership. They have the charm, or skills, or ruthlessness to obtain their darkness desires. They wish for power or people or love, perhaps for something even they do not understand. I've never wished for such things, old friend. I have no use for power, or influence."

He looked quiet somehow, thoughtful. It was probably a Vampire thing: that strange ability to exist in time but not be of it. Isaiah seemed ageless, but careful. "I am not some great leader of men, Remus. I never wished to be. I only wished…" When Isaiah turned back to watch Remus, there was a sadness in his blank dark eyes. "Be sure this is what you truly desire."

Remus watched as he disappeared behind a door, he was gone for a short time. When he appeared again, Isaiah was staring away, into a corner and there was a man that had followed him in. He was much older then the other, and so upright in stance it seemed painful. He was not at all harsh in appearance, with a lean, thin frame that swam in the tailored linen suit. The man's skin was pale but not ivory; in his youth he must have been a handsome caramel but now age and worry had turned his tone gray. His face was long, narrow, and sunken. His hair long, gray and pulled back. He carried a cane.

"The Oir Ri said you wished to speak with me." The old man spoke. His voice was low, dulled and common. Remus was struck with how simple he seemed. He had none of Voldemort, Snape or Malfoy's bearing. He was a common man, unrefined and coarse.

"And who are you?" Remus demanded.

"You may call me Imre."