Hunter of the Shadows Book 3

Enemy at the Door.

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: No fact bashing, please:

All historical references are completely and utterly true,

except for the ones that quite obviously aren't.

(*grins cheekily*)

Now…

Dean yawns and cocks his head as if listening. A grin slowly forms on his face, and he leaps up off the bed just as the door to the room opens, revealing Sam and Tobius, in human form, dressed in jeans and tee shirts, and carrying several greasy bags.

"Here," Tobius thrusts a bag at Dean with his name scribbled on in pencil, who immediately opens it and sniffs appreciatively. "Don't blame me if you get indigestion, Dean."

Dean just shrugs, pulls out a juicy burger and practically devours it in one bite.

The senior non-lunar rolls his eyes affectionately.

"Good job we brought five, eh Sam?" Tobius smiles at his grandson.

Sam nods and laughs. "But I still wasn't convinced that would be enough," he holds up another bag, also with Dean's name on it. "Here ya go."

Dean swallows his mouthful and stares at the bag, then at Sam. "Awe, dude. You're a star, you know that? A Goddamned star!"

Sam grins back at him. "So I'm forgiven for the bed?"

"Yeah, I'll let it go this time," Dean murmurs, tucking into his next burger.

"Great! Must pee!" Sam announces and heads into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dean freezes mid bite, eyes wide, then glances at his Sire.

"Uh…"

Tobius raises an eyebrow. "You didn't…"

Dean nods, sheepishly.

There's a muffled yell from the bathroom, followed by "DEAAANN!"

Tobius mouth purses. "You cling filmed the toilet? Really, Dean? I'm surprised at you."

Dean shrugs again. "He had it coming."

"I'd have hoped that you'd show a little more sophistication by now," his Sire remarks, and knocks on the bathroom door. "Are you ok in there, pup?"

The door opens, but Sam doesn't come out. "Can you get me some fresh clothes, please?" he mutters, dolefully, from behind the privacy of the door.

Tobius grabs a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt from a nearby duffle and passes them over.

Dean's face falls and he drops his bag of food on the table by the window.

"Sam, I'm sorry, dude..."

But the bathroom door slams shut.

Tobius clucks his tongue, loudly. "Oh dear, oh dear. Aren't we in someone's bad books!"

"It was just a joke," Dean grumbles, but knocks tentatively on the bathroom door. "Sam? C'mon on out, dude. I promise I won't laugh."

Silence.

"Sammy?"

The door opens again but, before Dean can duck, a pair of sodden jeans hits him full in the face.

"Ewwwww!" he shrieks like a girl and dry wretches loudly.

Sam reappears, dressed in his dry clothes and laughing his ass off.

"I think that's Advantage Sam Winchester," Tobius grins, and claps Sam on the back. "Well played, pup."

Dean wipes off his face with a hand, and wrinkles his nose. "Haha. Very funny. At least you didn't pee on them."

"You really thought I was gonna fall for that one?" Sam shakes his head. "Not a chance, man."

"Let's just eat, huh? Food's getting cold," says Dean, rolling his shoulders as though he could roll off his embarrassment that easily. But as he's passing by Sam on his way back to his bag of burgers, he throws an arm around the kid's shoulders and gives him a quick affectionate squeeze. "The student has surpassed the master. For now!"

As he's tucking into another burger, Dean sits down at the table and turns to face the camera.

"You guys don't mind if I eat while I talk, right?"

"They might not mind," says Tobius with a grimace. "But we do!"

"Ach!" Dean waves a hand in dismissal. "So don't look."

He takes a huge bite, swallows, and grins. "Here begins the next journal entry."

Then...

I heard Tobius give Dave the go-ahead and, out the corner of my eye, I saw the needle carefully pushed into Sam's arm.

The purple glow in his eyes dimmed and flickered weakly, then gained strength. Never thought I'd be so happy to see that weird colour look… healthy again, for want of a better word, and to our immense relief the seizure began to recede.

The Doc was gently rubbing Sam's arm with one hand, presumably stimulating circulation, and pushing the syringe plunger with the other.

"That's it, easy now," he murmured, soothingly, as the convulsions calmed all the way back down to minor tremors again.

The stuff was so thick it took a good five minutes before the syringe was emptied, but by the time it was, Sam had stopped convulsing altogether, and the purple glow was steady as a rock.

We stayed silent while the Doc took Sam's pulse and temperature, then wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his upper left arm.

"I'll leave that on for the next few days," he said at last, keeping his voice soft and low. "He's stable for now. That was just the first dose, and I'll be stepping it down day by day, until he's off it completely."

Tobius nodded and held out a hand. "Thank you, Dave. We really appreciate all your help."

Dave smiled and shook the offered hand. "It's an absolute honour, Your Grace."

Tobius shifted uncomfortably when I stared hard at him.

"Please, call me Tobius," he mumbled, and avoided my gaze.

"How long will this take?" I asked, looking down at Sam's still, silent form. "And will there be any side effects?"

The Doc shrugged. "There's really no way to tell. It depends on how Sam's body handles the gradual withdrawal," he pulled out a small, black, plastic disc and handed it over to me. "If Sam shows any signs of distress, such as those seizures, or vomiting, don't hesitate: call me right away."

He pressed down hard on the disc and a small red light started flashing. It was followed a second later by a loud bleeping noise, coming from Dave's jacket pocket.

"I won't be far away, as it happens," he said, and began rubbing his hands with some kind of gel he'd pulled out of his bag. "I'm dealing with an ingrown claw early afternoon, and later on one of our pups needs the wax syringed out of his ears." He smiled faintly in amusement. "That should be good; last time I found a small piece of crayon in there. God knows what I'll dig out this time. Bloody kids. Gotta love 'em, eh? But I digress; I'll be back to check on you all from time to time throughout the day and night."

With a small salute, he was gone, bounding out of the room and back down the steps. It struck me just then who the Doc reminded me of: one of the Weasley twins from Harry Potter; the one with both ears intact? I hoped I didn't start looking around for his twin brother next time he paid us a visit. Guy might think I'm weird, or something.

"Everything go ok?" I heard Crowley ask the Doc outside our room, followed by soft murmuring that gradually faded as my two newly found uncles escorted him away.

"So, we've had a busy few days," I said, tucking Sam underneath the soft furs. "Sam kidnapped and drugged, you going all kill-crazy, meeting your family out in the middle of nowhere, and everyone keeps calling you 'Your Grace'."

I finished by smoothing the furs down, then stood up, folding my arms and staring at my father and Sire, silently demanding the truth.

"Ah… yes… well…" Tobius turned, paced to a cabinet over by the window, and pulled out a bottle of his favourite French brandy. Pouring two generous measures into crystal balloon glasses, he held one out, inviting me to joint him by the window.

I glanced back at Sammy, reluctant to leave his side, even just to go a few feet.

"He'll be fine for now, Dean," Tobius called softly.

I nodded and moved away, grasping the brandy glass eagerly.

We stared out the window, admiring the morning sun climbing high above the grounds.

I heard him sigh, before he told me.

"My full title is: His Grace, Honorary Lord of Anjou, and Honorary Duke of Normandy and Aquitaine."

I nearly choked to death on the brandy.

The liquid burned down the wrong way, burst out through my nose, and had me gasping and doubling over, with Sire thumping my back, hard.

I'm not up on titles or genealogy and all that shit, but even I knew what that meant. After all, even human hunters usually picked up a few international history lessons during their careers.

When I finally got my breath back, I glared at him.

"Duke of Normandy… that's supposed to be the Queen of England, right?" I whispered, angrily. "Elizabeth II, she's the current Duke."

"Yes," Sire stared at me, eyes deep and mysterious. "Werewolves are not permitted by lore to bare human titles or lay a claim to the sovereignty. Elizabeth would be my many times removed grandniece, or cousin, had I been human."

"So that makes you…" I struggled to get the words out. "That makes Elizabeth II…"

"The rightful human heir to the throne of England, and head of the Common Wealth," Tobius interrupted, a little too firmly. "As part of a major pack, I am permitted to use my titles within pack walls, or within the walls of the Queen's residence when invited. In fact, Marcus, as Alpha, is also an Honorary Lord of the Realm, and is called to state several times a year, partly to pay homage to Her Majesty, but mainly to discuss pack matters."

I just gaped, unable to say a word. I'd just found out that my father was a fucking King without a crown so I was a little upset, if you get my drift.

"She grants us the highest respect," he carried on, oblivious to my distress. "In fact, her close personal body guards are all non-lunars from this pack. Raised and trained by the Guard Captain we saw in the forest earlier this morning. They have to change them out every twenty years or so, to stamp on any growing suspicions about them, so they send the youngsters who want to branch out and see a bit of the world." He shrugged. "It would look a little odd if the monarchy used the same people for thousands of years, eh? Dean, do close your mouth, there's a good chap."

I spluttered a few times before finally saying "But… if you took the throne, werewolves could end up ruling the planet! We could protect humans much more effectively!"

"And that's precisely why we can't," he answered, sadly. "Archimedes was right about one thing: we are faster, stronger and, in many cases, far smarter than humans. But our egos are also vastly bigger. Do you see where I'm coming from, Dean?"

I blinked.

Yeah, I saw it alright.

We wouldn't stand still at merely ruling over humans. Eventually, there would be too many of us, all immortal and with too much strength, all battling against each other and squabbling for power. Humans would get caught in the middle of all the wars and suffer greatly at our hands.

It had happened once before, thousands of years ago, between werewolves and vampires, and I remember Sire telling Sam and me about it just after Sam's first change, when Gordon Walker had become an even greater threat to us by being turned into a vamp. (See previous journal entry).

We weren't meant to rule. We're here to serve humans, not the other way around.

Unfortunately, there were non-lunars out there, both of Types One and Two, who had very different opinions on the matter.

A warm hand on my neck drew me out of my thoughts.

I can see you understand. We're here to protect humans, not enslave them.

We stood at the window in silence, sipping our brandy, and occasionally glancing over at the bed. Sam hadn't moved and his eyes still glowed purple, but he at least looked comfortable and warm for the first time since I found him chained to that damn tree.

I took the opportunity to look around the room.

It was huge, and held that ornate masculinity which is somehow elegant, but manages to easily escape full on Gaylord proportions. The high ceilings were exquisitely decorated with murals of wolves in various states of change. It should have looked creepy, but it just wasn't. Instead, I thought it was rather moving, seeing the wolf gradually emerge from the human form.

The rest of the room contained a few pieces of dark oak furniture and the walls were lined with books, tapestries, several beautiful broadswords, and two crossed longbows over the fireplace. Anywhere else, and it might have seemed cluttered, but this place looked cosy and homely.

There was another door that I hadn't spotted until now, right next to the main entrance. It was slightly ajar, and beyond it I spied a stone, spiral staircase.

"That leads to the observatory," Sire remarked. "And two other bedrooms. This…" he waved a hand around to encompass the entire building. "Was my quarters once, but after I left, again, Marcus insisted on keeping it for me, in case I changed my mind and decided to come back." He chuckled, a little sadly it seemed to me. "And I can see that he hasn't changed a thing."

"Yeah, what's that all about?" I asked, quietly but without judgement, just curiosity. "You turned down pack alpha? To hit the road?"

Tobius sighed deeply.

"That's a little complicated, so I'll try to sum it up for you..."

The pack was originally from France, just outside of Anjou, where Sire lived as a human.

He'd accidentally interrupted a hunt and been bitten by the angry Alpha, who later, after an attack of guilt, took him under his wing and publicly, to the pack anyway, claimed Tobius as his Beta, son and heir. Marcus, Crowley and Castiel came along a short while later.

It turned out that Sire's human family had been pretty high up in the echelons of Royal society, so high up that his daddy was actually the King of England and France. And when they found out what had happened to their beloved prince and heir, he was officially declared dead by human law, though they continued to regard him with love and fondness. Even today, Tobius' place in Royal Family history is poorly documented in human records, if at all, 'cos I'd sure never heard of him.

But the Royal Family owed their own allegiance and loyalty to the pack, for reasons lost to the dim and distant past. These reasons extended to most of the royal families of Europe, as it happened, and at that time they were the only humans on the planet who knew about non-lunars. They were only permitted to live provided they kept their mouths shut, so there were no recriminations over Sire's change.

Instead, Tobius was allowed to keep his title as an honorific, and even given a new one, the title he would have gained if he'd been human and succeeded the throne. (Ya know, minus King) But he was only allowed to use it within pack and palace territory, so the next human in line, his younger brother, could take the throne of England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales, and, as a consequence, most of France (at the time) under the Duchy of Normandy, hence the Duke status.

These days, the Duchy only covers the Crown dependencies, such as the Channel Islands, but it's still a pretty impressive title.

Sire only touched very briefly on the love of his life, claiming that he'd met Lady Anna Le Masurier in Italy one summer, and it was the best summer of his life.

His eyes were so clouded with sadness that I didn't have the heart to push him any more on this. Instead, he skipped right over it.

After Anna died, Tobius lost all interest in pack life. So he left France and didn't return again for another hundred years. During this time the pack Alpha was killed by an assassin while paying a diplomatic visit to the King of Portugal, and Tobius unwillingly ascended to the seat of Alpha. But after finding the assassin and administering pack justice on the bastard, so disheartened by life in general and the loss of his Sire and mentor in particular, he turned the seat down in a rare move known in wolf lore as 'tachhmech'(pronounced tack-mesh), from an ancient and defunct Were language, loosely translated as 'volunteer to unseat'. In the wake of Tobius' abdication, a reluctant Marcus took the seat as Regent Alpha, a kind of stand-in, if you will, and promised to keep the pack safe in Sire's absence. Marcus never gave up his belief that Tobius was the best Alpha for the job, and that he would one day step up.

"It's what makes Marcus perfect for the job," Sire remarked, fondly. "He puts his pack first, before his own ambitions and aspirations to power." He shook his head, smiling distantly. "Now that's what makes a good alpha, yet he never sees it within himself, just how special he really is...and he should."

At that point, Tobius cast me an odd, pointed look. "Reminds me of someone, actually..." he smiled, knowingly, then shook his head slightly and carried on with his personal history.

Tobius moved aimlessly from country to country, not even sure of what he was looking for. Eventually, he came to settle in London and remained there for several hundred years.

Sensing a turning of the tide in Europe, and an unsettling feeling of pending doom with the rise of a certain Corsican asshole, Marcus upped sticks, packed up the family china and moved the pack to Canada, out of harms way.

Less than a year later, when the pack was still settling down in their new home, the Napoleonic wars began, tearing Europe apart at the seams.

Little wonder it was sometimes referred to as the original First World War, huh?

"You know about most of my time spent in London, long before Napoleon came on the scene," said Sire, pouring some more brandy. "Finding and rescuing Archy during The Great Fire of London, and afterwards trying to hunt the murdering bastard down."

Following a long, hard trek across the globe, Archy disappeared, leaving Sire angry and bitter with resentment.

Many, many years later, after having fought in both world wars, he joined the SAS and rose to one of the highest commissioned ranks in the British Special Forces. Not long after that, he met Mary Winchester, my mother, and it was her influence that really put Sire on his current path, of protecting humans by hunting down the strays.

"I headed back up to the Canada Pack around the time you were born, to set up the NLSU."

I got the feeling he was holding something back, but carried on listening in hopes he'd fill me in when he was ready.

Marcus was in full support of Sire's idea about the Non-Lunar Special operations Unit; anything to protect pack integrity and keep non-lunars off human radar. He asked Tobius again if he wished to take his place as Alpha, but Sire's course in life had already changed so much, it just didn't seem right to take it.

Instead, Tobius called a state meeting, inviting Queen Elizabeth II to officially declare Marcus as Pack Alpha. It had never been done before, asking a human to perform such an honour, and it set a brand new precedent in pack lore throughout most of the world.

Some Were against the move and left the pack altogether, claiming it an insult to the pack elders who would traditionally make the declaration, and that it was just another attempt to revive the long dead British imperialism by a vastly different route. But others, wolves with greater foresight, realised the wisdom of cementing relations between the throne and its' former heir.

A new era dawned, the pack was at its healthiest and happiest, and the Royal Family remained in tight and friendly allegiance, visiting whenever they came to Canada. Were packs throughout the world, even as far away as the Great Pack of North Korea, were at peace for the first time in centuries...

Good heavens! Tobius announced, suddenly, looking at his Rolex. Where has the time gone?

I realised he was right. We'd been talking all morning and well into the afternoon. Already, the wintry sun was beginning to turn a deep, eye catching orange and embarking on its' descent into evening.

I'll go check on Sammy, I got up and stepped over to the bed, my mind reeling with too much information.

Are you alright, Dean? Sire asked, gently.

Yeah, just a little shell-shocked is all. I replied, with a shaky smile. Not everyday you find out you're related to Royalty.

He nodded and chuckled lightly. I know. And I'm sorry to have sprung this on you so suddenly. My intention was to tell you all about it before you met the pack. We were to stop off in a nice little hotel, not far from here, so I could give you both the chance to decide if you were really ok with meeting them. They are a little different to the Home Pack, and much larger.

No kidding. A thought struck me. "So, this was where you were bringing us all along?" I asked out loud. "This was the safe place we were heading for? Wow!"

Tobius chuckled again. "Yes, a little sooner than I'd planned, however." He came to stand beside me, and smoothed a hand tenderly over Sam's head. "Thanks to our little trouble maker here."

I snorted. "Little? Dude, he's taller than you, now!"

Tobius smiled. "And yet, to us, he'll always be the little puppy who stood in front of a mirror after his first change, and complained that he looked 'ridiculous'."

"Yeah, I remember that," I said, softly, gazing down at my beautiful son. "God! I know I keep saying it, but he's been through so damn much…"

"And he'll keep on bouncing back," said Sire, confidently. "He always does."

"Hello?" Dave's muffled voice followed a soft knock on the door. "Anyone at home?"

"C'mon in," I called out to the Fred Weasely lookalike.

The Doc poked his head round the door, and saw us standing over Sam.

"Hope I haven't interrupted anything?" he asked, politely. "Sam needs his evening dose, before another seizure sets in."

"By all means, do come in," said Tobius, graciously, and pulled up a couple of chairs from the computer desk.

Fre... Dave nodded and smiled at Sire and me, while giving each of us a firm hand shake in greeting. I tried my hardest to grin benignly and not stare at the door in anticipation.

Seriously! Though he was a little taller, the more time I spent in his presence, the more I wanted to call him Fred, and ask after his brother George!

"Now, let's see how he's getting on," the Doc muttered away to himself, oblivious to my inner turmoil. He began checking the kid's pulse, blood pressure and fixing up another syringe of the Sleepworm. "I've stepped this down a notch, so I would advise keeping a strict eye on him for the next few hours, just to see how he reacts. In fact, I can stick around until about ten pm, if you'd like? Give you a chance to get out and go for some fresh air... maybe a hunt?"

He looked up at us, expectantly.

"I don't know…" I began, casting a worried glance Sam's way, but Sire nudged me into silence.

"That's very kind," he said. "Dean and I could both use some time to stretch our paws. If you're sure you'll be ok with Sam here?"

"Absolutely!" said the Doc, with a big friendly grin. "It'll do you both the world of good. And it will give me time to set up a decent line in Sam's arm."

He must have seen the angry look on my face, because he hurried to explain.

"Sam is going to need several daily doses of Sleepworm, so it will be quicker and easier on him if I can just administer the stuff via a line, rather than trying to push it straight from syringe to vein," he added, tentatively "Is that ok with you?"

"That's perfect," Tobius cut in, before I could answer, and started herding me towards the door. "We won't be long."

"Take your time," said the Doc, waving us away. "Oh, and visit Cook, if you get the chance. She's got some new recipes she wants to try out on you, and she said she'd be after you with a spoon if you don't drop in and see her while you're here." He grinned, cheekily. "Her words, not mine."

I left without a word but once we were outside, I rounded on Sire.

"What the hell was that?"

He actually blinked at me.

"What was what, exactly?"

I pointed at the door.

"Us, leaving Sam all alone with a total stranger?"

"He's not a stranger, Dean," Tobius answered in a serious, quietly commanding tone. "He's the pack doctor, and as such holds a position of respect almost equal to the Alpha himself."

That shut me up, and put me well and truly in my place. Fast.

Recognising the signs of my Alpha's absolute authority, I nodded hesitantly. "Fair enough."

It's not often Sire pulls rank like that but when he does, it's for good reason. If he trusted Dave the Doc with Sam's life, then so did I.

Tobius grinned. "Now, let me show you around…"

TBC...

1) Absolutely no offence is meant to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II or, indeed, any of the royal family's of Great Britain and Europe.

This is merely a work of fiction, meant for entertainment and nothing more.

2) I know some of you must be missing Sam's input at the moment, but I promise that he'll be back with us soon. There is a purpose behind all this, I assure you.

3) Do I really need to reaffirm the historical references situation here? Surely, most of you know enough about history to understand what's bullshit and what ain't?

4) Keep up with those reviews... some of you are starting to slack off! Not good enough! You think I'm doing this for my health?

Time to step up, people! Clickety Click that review button and show me some luuurve!

*grins cheekily*

Love and hugs,

ST x