"I hate pubs. Did I mention this before?" Jeanne grumbled. She blew some foam off her ale, and it landed on the grimy counter.
Alice would have chuckled, if her progeny hadn't already made the same remark a hundred times. It was slowly getting on her nerves, and it didn't help that the Wolves were late. She was beginning to think that the werewolves were going to stand them up. Would they truly dare?
Or had Jeanne and Alice gotten the wrong place? It seemed unlikely. There couldn't be that many pubs called The Blood Moon. "Why do you always order a cheap ale?"
"Precisely because it's cheap. If I'm not going to be able to enjoy whatever I order, I don't want to spend good money on it." Dear Jeanne. As if money were ever a concern to her. Alice had never known anyone so stingy.
She looked at her glass of whisky with terrible yearning. "At least I can benefit from the smell of it." Ye gods, how she missed drinking whisky. Particularly at this very moment.
They shouldn't be having secret meetings with the Wolves. They shouldn't be going behind the Mother's back. But the others didn't seem to realise that taking down Greyback should be their priority, and Alice had a feeling that the Wolves were not making it a priority, either.
The front door opened, hinges creaking ominously, and Alice recognised the newcomer's voice right away. "…they're going to suck us dry, mark my words. I told you that we should have taken the Tube!" It was the pirate - well, former pirate, Alice assumed, though she had no clue what his current occupation might be.
About time, Alice thought. The Wolves' tardiness did nothing to improve their already poor reputation among the Ancients.
Jeanne had heard him, too, and she was glowering in his direction. No one could quite pull off a one-eyed glare like Jeanne. "Mieux vaut tard que jamais, putain."
Alice translated automatically. Her own French was passable at best, but she understood most of what Jeanne said, when she didn't speak too fast. Better late than never. Plus another term that wasn't strictly necessary. She gave Jeanne a chiding look. "Watch your language."
Jeanne snorted. "Sorry, mum."
Alice was of the opinion that swearing should be used with parsimony, when the situation truly demanded it. Not with every other sentence, as Jeanne tended to do.
The man who'd spoken – Edward Teach, Blackbeard, or, as he'd repeated many times during their initial phone conversation, Ted, though Alice was loath to demonstrate such inappropriate familiarity with a Wolf – made his way toward them, his gait confident, a broad grin on his bearded face. The man behind him, tall and slender, was utterly expressionless.
Miyamoto Musashi. He didn't look like much, dressed as a modern mortal, with a white t-shirt and washed-out jeans, but Alice would do well to remember who he was. There was an air of danger, of supernatural alertness, radiating from him. She imagined that his nickname, Silverclaws, was not simply meant to reference the blades he used to wield. Or perhaps still wielded, for all Alice knew.
"Ladies!" Blackbeard exclaimed jovially. "You're already here."
"We've been here for over an hour, you twat," Jeanne snapped.
"Aw, sorry about that," he said, still smiling. "In my defence...well, it's all Silver's fault. Fool insisted on taking a cab. At rush hour. Honestly." The designated perpetrator made no comment. His face didn't change. Blackbeard cleared his throat. "Anyway. Can I buy you another drink to make up for…" He trailed off as Jeanne made an obvious effort not to strangle him. "Uh…yeah, maybe not." He turned to the bartender. "A Guinness and some herbal tea here, mate." He sat down on a stool beside Alice. Musashi didn't move. He appeared to be studying the TV screen on the other side of the room, but Alice was certain that he was scanning the room for a potential trap. Unless he was genuinely interested in the soccer game. He was a man, after all.
Alice collected her thoughts. "Thank you for coming. As mentioned on the phone, I hope that this informal meeting shall remain between us."
"Sure, lass," Blackbeard said. "Fear not. Not like we have much contact with the others, anyway."
Interesting. The Wolves were still at odds with one another. "Has Malkoran finally deigned to make his opinion known, regarding the Greyback situation?"
Blackbeard shrugged. "His opinion on this matter is the same as on any other matter: he doesn't care. He's retired, or so he claims. He leaves all the official dealings and decision-making to Bill, Hannibal and Ramesses. The Holy Trinity," he added with a faint sneer. Musashi said something in a low voice, but Alice didn't catch any of it, because he spoke in Japanese. Being immortal, Alice had no excuse not to be fluent in several languages, but…well, she simply wasn't good at it. She'd learned notions of French mainly to understand what Jeanne said, because the girl used her mother tongue whenever she was angry or annoyed, and that was most of the time. But aside from her native Gaelic and commonplace English, Alice had not progressed much in the language area, unlike most of her peers. As a result, her Japanese was all but inexistent.
Not so Jeanne's. She spoke with a heavy French accent no matter the language she used, but she spoke them regardless and, most importantly, she understood them. "We're not likely to repeat any of it to Malkoran. We don't even know where he is." Not for lack of trying to figure it out, Alice knew. Jeanne liked to be prepared, and she liked to know exactly who she was dealing with. "Look, we don't care who's in charge of your little pack. We want to know that someone is doing something to find Greyback. He needs to be restrained. He's obviously out of control, and apparently he's not shy about exposing us to anyone who asks. If he reveals our existence to that Voldemort fellow-"
Blackbeard laughed aloud. "Is that what you're worried about? That crackpot old wizard? Please. I've eaten tougher villains for breakfast. Do you want me to get rid of him? It's against our rules, but if it allows us to forget all about this sorry situation and go back to our lives…"
"If we wanted to get rid of Voldemort, we could do it ourselves," Jeanne said angrily. She shot a baleful glare at the bartender as he brought Blackbeard's order, and he quickly shuffled away after depositing the drinks on the counter.
Jeanne was bluffing, Alice knew. The "crackpot old wizard" was more dangerous than the Wolf realised. If he weren't, he would have stayed dead the first time he was killed, wouldn't he? There was something off about the whole thing. It reeked of black magic, but Alice, despite her moniker, knew little about magic. She knew her herbs, but there was nothing magical about that. It was simple herbalism – a mundane branch of healing that anyone could learn.
"So you don't want to get rid of him?" the Wolf asked, one bushy eyebrow raised quizzically. "Despite the fact that he threatens your kid's…family, including Evey? Possibly the wizarding world at large?"
Evey? Alice scowled. Was she a first-name acquaintance already? They'd only spent a few hours together, and Evey had not mentioned befriending any of her rescuers.
"Speaking of the girl," Blackbeard went on before either of them had a chance to reply, "are you also going to the wedding? I figured we could carpool or something. I mean, you can't fly, right? You're not that sort, uh?"
Jeanne was staring at him. "What wedding?" Alice could have slapped the Wolf.
He hesitated, his grin faltering for the first time since he'd entered the pub, looking like he'd just asked a fat-bellied woman if she was pregnant. "Er…"
"Baka," Musashi murmured.
This, Alice understood. And she quite agreed with the statement. "Evey and Walden's wedding," she said wearily. Jeanne frowned at her questioningly. "I received the invitation two days ago. I'm sorry, Jeanne. I already told them that I wouldn't be attending." The nerve of the fledgling, not to invite his own maker, while everyone else was invited. Including two Wolves, apparently.
The hurt look in her eye was quickly concealed as Jeanne returned her attention to the Wolves. "Does this look like a carpool-arrangement meeting?" she hissed at them. "Voldemort is irrelevant. It's your demon-spawn of a Wolfbrother that's causing all this trouble. So you're going to find him, and then you're going to tie him up, lock him up, and throw away the bloody key."
Blackbeard gave her a semi-apologetic smile. "Doll, I had no intention of generating a family feud, I promise. I just assumed…"
"Why are you still talking about the blasted wedding?" Jeanne exclaimed loudly. Several patrons paused in their conversations and turned toward them. "I'm trying to discuss business here!"
Alice placed a hand on her progeny's arm. "Keep your voice down, Jeanne. There's no need to-"
"It's easy for you to say. You're invited."
Oh, hell. It bothered her a lot more than she let on, didn't it? Jeanne, who usually cared nothing about what people thought of her. Jeanne, who was the strongest person Alice knew. "I told you, I'm not going!" Alice repeated.
"I don't fucking care! Je n'en ai rien à foutre de leur mariage à la con, bordel!"
Blackbeard chuckled. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, young lady?"
Jeanne inhaled sharply, something she did either when she was about to blow up entirely or when she was attempting to keep her cool. Alice waited for the explosion, but it didn't come. "Can we focus on Greyback?" Jeanne demanded in a lowered voice. "You know, the reason why we're here in the first place?"
Blackbeard nodded meekly. "Sure thing. But, um…" Jeanne shot him a withering look, and he raised his hands defensively. "It's about Greyback. The truth is, when we told you that we would track him down… Well, we can't. I mean, we literally can't. You people can summon each other, or whatever you call it, but we can't do that. We could sniff out his trail, but if he's out of the country, and we think he is, then we won't find him. I mean, this is a bloody island, and we can't follow scents in water-"
"I knew it!" Jeanne exclaimed. "You never intended to search for him. You repugnant, malignant-"
"Oppugnant?" Blackbeard supplied with a grin. Attempts at humour were wasted on Jeanne, especially when she was in a mood. The Wolf had no idea how dangerous she could be, did he? Didn't he realise that she could kill him, if she felt like it? It wouldn't even take that much provocation, really.
"-stinky fucking beasts!" Jeanne finished in a huff, slamming her palm on the counter hard enough that their drinks shook. The few patrons, who'd been casually eavesdropping and eyeing the four of them curiously, quickly looked away. The bartender pretended to be busy on the far side of the bar.
Jeanne kept her glaring blue eye on Blackbeard, but his smile never faltered. "I've been called worse things," the former pirate said with a good-natured shrug. He took a long sip from his stout, as though he feared that Jeanne would knock it over before he had time to consume it.
Through it all, Musashi, who'd finally sat down beside Blackbeard, remained utterly placid, slowly stirring his cup of tea, in which he'd added a nauseating amount of sugar. Was he seriously going to drink that? "Quit toying with them, Edward," he said quietly. His English was flawless, as Alice had suspected. The Japanese had been meant to confuse them, but upon realising that Jeanne understood it, he'd abandoned the ploy. "My friend means no offence, Miss Swindler. Please forgive his rude manners."
Blackbeard scoffed in outrage. "My rude manners?!" He looked at Alice, as if he somehow expected her support. She returned him a flat stare. "Why are you taking the Frenchie's side?" he asked his fellow Wolf.
"Because we are all here for the same purpose: to put an end to the menace that is Greyback. We have no reason not to get along."
"I'm not the one making things difficult," Blackbeard muttered. "But I suppose you're right." He glanced at Jeanne. "Truce?" She made an indistinct, growling noise, which Blackbeard interpreted to be her assent. "Look, it's true that no one cares about Greyback. We've already taken drastic measures against…Goldeneyes, so unless the pup really messes up, he's free to do as he pleases, as far as the others are concerned. Yes, including the Holy Trinity," he answered Jeanne's question before she could get the words out. Funny how he used Grigori Rasputin's Wolf name, despite the fact that everyone knew who he really was. Then again, even Jeanne hadn't been able to learn Greyback's birth name, so perhaps there was a point to this pseudo-secrecy. "We're the only ones who are dedicated to his arrest. Though God knows what we'll do with him once we do find him. If we find him."
"'God'?" Jeanne sniggered. "I get why the clueless mortals say that, but you? You ought to know better."
Blackbeard waved the irrelevant remark away. "Les vieilles habitudes ont la vie dure, très chère."
Old habits die hard. Ugh. His French was impeccable. Alice really needed to pick up a few languages, no matter how bad she was at it. She felt ridiculously inadequate – and the fact that she was the oldest here only reinforced that feeling.
"Why do you care about Greyback, then?" Jeanne demanded.
Blackbeard did not reply right away. He swirled the remainder of his Guinness around in its glass. "I feel responsible for what he does, alright? I turned Goldeneyes. It was obviously a mistake, considering the Great War…"
"And World War II," Musashi added quietly.
Was he implying…had the exiled Wolf somehow initiated these conflicts? That would certainly explain why they'd banished him. Though where and how, no one among the Ancients knew. Rumours abounded, of course, but each one was least likely than the last. Some believed that Rasputin was bound and locked in a cage at the bottom of the ocean, others that he was entombed in a pyramid… It was all very silly and unrealistic. But Alice doubted that they would receive a truthful answer, should they question the Wolves directly.
Blackbeard shot Musashi a baleful look. "Yes, thank you for your input, mate. Allow me to remind you that you turned me, so you share in the responsibility. I should never have been allowed to choose the next Wolf without supervision. You know me better than that."
"I am here, am I not?" Musashi said nonchalantly. "I would not have come if I didn't deem it to be my duty. Spirits know, I see enough of you at home not to willingly spend my free evenings with you as well."
At home? Alice blinked. Were they living together? Jeanne apparently had the same thought, because she gave Alice a side glance, one eyebrow raised. She who liked to know everything about her clients/victims/enemies had obviously missed a major clue. That explained why the two Wolves bickered so much, at least. They behaved like an old married couple.
It was…disturbing. Not because they were men, but rather because Musashi had turned Blackbeard. He was practically his father. It felt…incestuous. But perhaps only the Ancients saw it that way, that peculiar relationship between a maker and their progeny. After all, the Wolves weren't bound by blood.
Blackbeard laughed heartily and said something in Japanese. Alice looked to Jeanne for a translation, but her daughter was not paying attention. She was…typing? Texting? on that mobile phone of hers.
Alice decided to get the conversation back on tracks. "I hope that you understand that Greyback, should you find him, must not be harmed. Under no circumstances."
"Of course!" Blackbeard said quickly. "The girl told us about their…um, connection." Evey had really not been tongue-tied with her rescuers, had she? Alice frowned disapprovingly. "Look, I wouldn't dream of hurting her, I promise." She'd also clearly made a strong impression on the Wolves. Alice wondered if it was one of her special…powers, abilities, talents, whatever term fit best. Indeed, many of the Ancients had taken a liking to her, after the Mother had cleared the air and informed them that no one would be executed. Gorgo very nearly doted on her – she claimed that Evey reminded her of her closest friend, when she was a child. Alice found it absolutely incredible that Gorgo even remembered such things, after over two thousand years. Alice herself barely remembered her mortal life, let alone her childhood. Imhotep had already practically adopted Evey as one of his direct descendants, as though she was Tony's progeny – which she was, in a way, though Walden was more his progeny than the girl.
Alice's thoughts on the matter of Evey and Walden's existence were still uncertain. They were both easy to like, in their own way, but they were not true Ancients. It was quite the conundrum, in her mind, mostly because Jeanne seemed to detest the girl. Alice couldn't decide if Jeanne was somehow jealous – either because Evey was Walden's lover and now wife-to-be, or Tony's best friend – or if she simply despised the girl for her hybrid status, as a few Ancients did. It was always the same trio – Pat, Cat and Liz. Those three were never up to any good. They'd already tried to sabotage the vote regarding Tony's turning, and they'd fervently argued in favour of executing at least Walden, and preferably Tony and the girl as well. Why, Alice had no idea. She'd never had a quarrel with any of them, nor had Jeanne or even Imhotep. If she had to guess, Alice would say that they were jealous of the Mother's attentions – she'd always favoured Imhotep, her eldest, and his line.
Blackbeard broke through Alice's line of thought when he spoke again. "We'll do what we can, that I can promise. We'll keep watch at…Asgard, the prison in Snowdonia. If Greyback returns, we'll contact you right away."
"And what should we do with him, then?" Musashi asked his partner. "The others refuse to be involved, and they are obviously loath to repeat what they did to Goldeneyes, whatever they decided to do with him in the end."
They didn't know? Well, if even these two didn't know the truth, it was unlikely that the Ancients would ever find out. "You would know if Rasputin were dead, yes?" Alice wondered aloud, her curiosity getting the better of her.
She didn't think anyone would answer, but Blackbeard, idly scratching his beard, told her what he knew. "Hard to tell. None of us has ever died before." That was a good point, though Alice was somehow persuaded that if anything happened to Jeanne, she would know right away. "I doubt that they killed him. They couldn't have, not without involving you vampires, could they?" Theoretically, that was true, but then again, no one had experimented on the best way to kill a Wolf or an Ancient. Not to Alice's knowledge, anyway.
The theory was that only a Wolf could do permanent damage to an Ancient, and vice versa. Rumour had it that Malkoran, the original Wolf, still bore the marks of a disagreement he had with the Mother, millennia ago. Not many Ancients had actually met the eldest Wolf in person, however; neither Alice nor Jeanne had had that…privilege, and Imhotep believed that it was not his place to reveal whatever he knew of Malkoran.
"They must have locked him up somewhere safe," Blackbeard went on. He hesitated for a moment. "I tried to find him, soon after he disappeared. Picked up his scent at his last known place of residence, in Germany, then followed it halfway across the world, to China, but it was a dead end. It's like he vanished from the face of the earth."
"Good riddance," Musashi stated flatly. "He did try to destroy the world, Ted. Twice."
"I know, I know. I'm not even sure why I went looking for him. I just hope that they did manage to arrest him, that they're not just pretending to have dealt with the matter out of pride. For all we know, Grigori is actually sowing chaos someplace we don't know about yet. I mean, there's always a war going on in some part of the world, isn't there?"
"You people really can't be bothered to keep track of each other at all, can you?" Jeanne said. "You clearly need to upgrade your leadership situation. You need to decide things together, as a whole, not individually."
"You think we don't know that?" Blackbeard said, exasperation seeping in his voice. "It's not for lack of trying, lass. Malkoran refuses to talk to most of us. He's…on a retreat. Been away for decades, now. Hannibal and the rest decided to take matters into their own hands, but our Wolf pack is not a democracy," he said bitterly. "Far from it."
"It's not even a pack, at this point," Musashi added. "It's every Wolf for himself, and that goes against everything we know of werewolves."
"I'd love to hear you whine about your tragic family affairs," Jeanne snapped, "but can we please focus on Greyback? What else do you intend to do to find him? What happens when you do find him? Will the two of you be enough to overpower him and securely, permanently bind him?"
The two Wolves exchanged a meaningful look. "We're both stronger than him. In theory, at least," Blackbeard said eventually. "But walls and bars won't keep him in."
"The magical rope that the gods used to bind Fenrir in Norse mythology would be handy," Alice said wistfully.
The lights in the pub flickered. Blackbeard shook his head. "Codswallop, that. Gleipnir didn't resist for long." One of the lightbulbs above the bar went out. "Nothing can restrain…him." He seemed afraid to say the name aloud.
"But Voldemort held Greyback captive for a while, didn't he?" Jeanne put in. "If we need black magic, I know a witch or two…"
The Wolves considered that for a moment. "That might work," Blackbeard said slowly. "Greyback broke free of Voldemort's dungeons eventually, but if we're careful…" He trailed off with a shrug.
"He will be watched at all times, once he's caught. I'll make sure of it. The Ancients will keep an eye on him, whether you approve or not." Neither Wolf contradicted her. "As for…Asgard," she went on, with a moue of disdain at the daft name, "I regularly check on the area myself, though I can't get in. I wish I could leave guards, but they don't benefit from our ability to see through the Fidelius Charm, and the wards repel anyone not expressly allowed inside." That seemed to annoy her greatly. Jeanne wasn't used to being thwarted, even by magic. "That means that we rely on you entirely to keep us informed of Greyback's return the very moment it happens." Jeanne seemed to like that even less. She hated to rely on anyone for anything, and to have to count on Wolves, of all people, was particularly grating.
Blackbeard nodded. "Best we can do for now, I guess." He finished his beer in one gulp. "We'll be in touch, my dear ladies."
He nudged Musashi in the ribs as he stood. "I haven't even had a sip of tea!" the Wolf protested.
"How heartless of you to complain about such things in the present company," Blackbeard chided him. "Think about our friends here, who haven't had a single drop of tea in centuries."
"Get the fuck out of here," Jeanne growled. "Both of you." Thankfully, they did. Jeanne grumbled in French under her breath, and did some more angry texting on her phone.
The bartender hesitantly approached Alice. "Uh, you're going to pay for your mates' drinks, right?"
Jeanne stood abruptly and threw him a venomous look. He gulped down hard, his Adam's apple ready to pop out of his throat. "Never mind," he croaked. "It's on the house."
Alice stood, taking hold of Jeanne's arm. "Leave him be," she murmured. She searched her pockets for some loose change and put it on the counter, hoping that it more or less covered their bill, then she steered her daughter toward the door before she truly lost her temper; it would be a shame, after she'd reined it in for so long. Besides, cleaning up and covering that sort of mess was always costly. Better to avoid it altogether. "We've made some progress," she said as they started walking along the sidewalk. She tried to sound positive, though she felt that this meeting had been rather fruitless. They weren't any closer to finding Greyback, and now Jeanne knew about the wedding, which Alice had hoped wouldn't come up until it was over.
Jeanne snorted. "We've hired two incompetent nitwits to assist us. You call that making progress?"
"When we know that Greyback has returned, we'll handle him ourselves. And then we'll find a way to cure Evey, somehow. There has to be some magical...spell, or ritual, or whatever." Jeanne said nothing. Helping Evey certainly wasn't her priority. They walked in silence for a few minutes. "Jeanne, about the wedding…"
Jeanne rounded on her, causing a handful of pedestrians to nearly crash into them. Several people muttered in annoyance, but Jeanne's glower sent them scurrying away in a hurry. She turned her eye on Alice. "I don't want to hear another word about it," she said firmly. "I mean it, Al. Go if you want, I don't care, but leave me out of it." She started walking again, without waiting to see if Alice followed. "I'm late for my next appointment, thanks to these idiots. I'll catch up with you later."
Alice stood watching her daughter go, and wondered if maybe she should attend the wedding just to give Antonin a proper bollocking.