Hunter of the Shadows Book 3
Enemy at the Door.
Chapter 8
Now…
The world appears to be moving, jolting and shaky. One might begin to feel a little sick because of it.
"Oh man, this is it!" Dean's voice calls out, and the watcher realises what all the movement is about.
The camera is riding inside the Impala, as becomes evident when the car pulls to a slow stop, and Dean appears in a sideways view, opening the car door.
Outside, a grizzled looking guy in a ball cap, and a smiling, grey haired priest, stand waiting next to an old pickup truck.
The audience should recognise this place. It's Tobius' cabin, and there's a large pile of wood set up outside the front in a kind of pit.
Snow has settled thick and deep all around, sparkling in the sun, like jewels.
Dean's grin widens. "Hey Bobby!"
Ball cap guy, Bobby, nods and eyes the young wolf with a soft smile.
"Dean. You're looking well," and attempts to bear hug the living daylights out of him.
As the camera moves out, the watcher realises that Sam is the one on the other end of the view finder, but we hear him call out instructions every now and then.
"Hey Dean! Turn to the side a little and let me get everyone in shot."
Tobius appears, regally shaking Bobby's hand and earning himself a tight hug. He turns to the priest and smiles warmly, also offering a hand.
"Pastor Jim Murphy. Good of you to come."
Jim presses his other hand over their linked hands, like a gesture of blessing.
"I wouldn't miss this for the world," he replies, beaming with pleasure.
The camera jolts a little, then becomes steady as a rock.
Sam appears in front, chestnut hair gleaming healthily in the sunlight, and a brilliant, sweet smile on his face.
It seems that the camera has been placed on top of the Impala's roof, filming the hunters' reunion.
Sam is swept into his own Singer hug, and the youngster's eyes are brimming over with love.
"Missed you, Bobby," he mutters, just loud enough for the camera to pick up.
"Aw, I missed you too, boy," the gruff hunter replies with a sniff, one hand gently cupping the back of the kid's head. He pulls back and stares hard at Sam for a long minute, gaze focussing on the kid's left arm in particular, then nods with satisfaction. "You're looking much better these days. A little skinny, but good."
Tobius grins. "Don't worry, Bobby. He's getting there. Dean's making absolute certain of that."
Dean throws an arm around Sam's shoulders.
"That's my boy," he says, softly, eyes shining with pride. "So, you ready for this Sammy?"
Sam huffs excitedly. "Ready as I'll ever be."
The watcher feels their excitement, as though something monumental is about to occur.
And it does.
Silent as a cloud, several large wolves step out of the surrounding trees, their ears twitching, and puffing great clouds of steam out of their snouts.
Their demeanour is more than just friendly. There's a great sense of love and respect here.
A magnificent beauty, with long dark hair, naked and in human form, appears in the midst of these wonderful creatures, and all the wolves bow at her feet as she passes by.
Bobby's bulging eyes suggest he thinks either he's dreaming, or died and gone to heaven.
She holds out a hand to Tobius.
"It's been a long time, Tobius," her voice sounds like silk, sliding over the senses, or a bubbling, crystal clear natural spring.
Tobius smiles with pleasure. "Too long, Victoria, and that is my shame to bear," he bows and kisses her hand, then asks "And where is that old fart Lucas? I take it he's about somewhere?"
Her smile appears to be having a strange effect on Dean, who is almost swooning.
"Lucas sends his apologies for not greeting you himself, but the pups needed him," a small flicker of sadness crosses her face. "Things have not been the same since…"
She doesn't finish her sentence, just leaves it forlornly hanging.
"I'm sorry about Cornelius," says Sam, looking sad and miserable all of a sudden.
Victoria nods, obviously feeling for the younger wolf. "I know. Let us not speak of it for now. Be comforted that he's at peace, knowing we are all safe."
Dean's arm tightens almost imperceptibly around Sam, and something passes between the two of them. Something that carries the feeling of a father comforting his child, or a big brother consoling his little brother.
The digital audience may feel as though they've missed a great deal of this conversation, because the wolves are talking about events not yet discussed in Dean's video journals.
Clearly, that's about to change.
The wolves move forward into a circle, while Bobby sets about lighting a fire in the pit.
"Food will be served as soon as Lucas catches up," Victoria claps her hands, and two wolves in human form emerge from the cabin, carrying large platters of bread and pushing a trolley with a huge oak barrel. "In the meantime, I've been trying a new recipe for granary bread. Marcus sent on some marvellous blue veined cheese to go with it, and Lucas has tried out raspberry flavoured mead so, please, eat, drink, be merry, and tell me what you think…"
The sombre mood lifts in an instant and the wolves begin to mingle, chatting and murmuring with Tobius, Dean and Sam.
Pastor Jim and Bobby appear dumfounded, but pretty soon they are embroiled in a long conversation about woodcraft with one of the older members of the pack.
Dean watches them fondly, then he turns to the camera and smiles. "I guess I'd better carry on with the journal, before you guys climb right out of the lens and try to throttle me, huh?"
Then…
Dean… Dean… Dean…
I raised my head and blinked. Sometime during the night, I had undergone a change without even waking up. To change form without realising it was one of the less common signs of stress, Tobius had once told me.
Dean…Dean… Dean…
Sam? I shook my head, rubbing my long ears against the pillows and animal skins, then stared long and hard at Sam, his body tucked against my soft underbelly. Could swear I heard…
Dean… Dean… Dean…
There it was. Faint, painfully weak, maybe, only just enough strength to be heard outside of sleep only, but Sam was calling for me and this time he wasn't using Morse code.
Sammy?
I shifted out from underneath the kid, almost dislodging Tobius from the bed.
Wha? Grrrr… wha'timeisit? Sire just managed to right himself. He snorted, grunted, and opened one eye, glaring at me balefully. I would have laughed but we had more important things to deal with.
It's Sam. I panted, excitedly, and gently swiped my tongue up Sam's ear. I can hear him. I don't think it will be long now.
Nibbling delicately on the kid's lobe, I watched Tobius come hastily and fully awake.
That's excellent news, Sire snuffled into Sam's neck, eagerly breathing in his grandson's scent, just like he had the previous evening. But try to be patient. It might be some time before he can hold his own head up, let alone hold a conversation.
Don't care, I replied, so long as he's getting better.
Tobius turned and leapt off the bed, changing in mid-flight. Grabbing his robe and wrapping it around him, Sire grinned.
"I'd best inform the good doctor of Sam's progress."
Instead of using the pager device Dave had given us, Tobius used the desk top computer to send a short internal email, then poured us both a brandy. In deference to my current form, he presented my brandy in a small bowl he'd pulled out of a desk drawer.
It was a welcome warmth, burning slowly down my throat and into my gut.
Better? Sire raised an eyebrow, and relaxed into the leather, high-backed swivel chair behind the desk.
Definitely, I replied, swirling my tongue around my chops.
Good. Now, drink it all up and go back to sleep, pup, said Tobius, kindly. You obviously need it.
Sam twitched a little, his body shivering in the cool, early morning air despite all the animal skins, and his eyes were actually closed for the first time since I'd found him in the forests. This had to be good news.
Dean…
Once I'd lapped up every drop of brandy, I curled tighter around him, wrapping my huge tail over his legs, and burying my snout in the soft strands of hair at the base of his neck.
Don't worry Sammy. I'm still here, I told him, snuffling gently.
Tobius watched over us while I fell back into another light doze, with Sam's weak voice whispering away in my head.
It was still dark outside, though the world was beginning to wake up. The sky was lightening by small degrees, and the crowing of an impatient and randy farmyard rooster could be heard somewhere off in the distance.
But it didn't disturb my rest. I slipped further away for a little while, warm and comfortable, until a familiar loud, booming voice woke me up.
"Good morning!"
Marcus was standing over us, feet shoulder width apart, hands on hips very much in a pose that reminded me of pictures I'd seen of Henry VIII.
Wha…? I blinked sleepily, and realised it was full on daylight by now. I had slept most of the morning away.
A big, good natured grin revealed an impressive set of white teeth and the Alpha leaned down to ruffle the fur between my ears.
I growled my contentment long and loud, pressing my head into his hand.
"Oh, and I should warn you about Dean," Sire spoke up from nearby. "Big, fierce wolf that he is, he turns to instant mush when you stroke his ears. Especially if you're female with large breasts. The great big tart!"
I woofed indignantly and raised my head to glare across the room at Tobius, who merely grinned.
"You know I speak the truth, young pup," he said, a little too smugly in my view.
Marcus guffawed loud enough to wake the entire pack. Guy doesn't seem to do anything by halves.
"Splendid!" he announced, grandly. "Just like you then, Tobius." He whispered loudly to me "You know, your Sire still hasn't forgiven me for setting Big Fat Bertha on him when he turned forty…"
"Brother…" Tobius said, warningly.
"She had big breasts, too," Marcus carried on, ignoring Tobius and smiling wistfully.
"Marcus!" Sire took a step closer, scowling deeply.
"Of course, everything about her was big," said Marcus, barely concealing his mirth. "Thighs like tree trunks, a real woman, not like the skinny bints you see in Hollywood today."
"I'm warning you, brother…"
"Bertha went on to marry the Beta from a Swedish pack in the end," mused Marcus. "Nice girl, cousin of ours."
Tobius shook his head in defeat.
"Scarred your Sire for life when she sat on his…oof!"
Tobius tackled Marcus to the floor. "You've asked for it, little brother. Prepare to suffer greatly…"
"Ahem! Am I interrupting something?"
Dave appeared in the doorway, trying his best to keep a straight face and failing miserably.
The two Alphas paused, stared at each other then, with as much dignity as they could muster, which wasn't much, slowly disentangled themselves and stood up.
"Morning, Dave," muttered Tobius, not meeting the other wolf's eye.
"Yes, yes, good morning to you," agreed Marcus, seeming a little flustered and looking away.
And I gotta admit, it wasn't something I was expecting, seeing two pack alphas have at it in a sibling squabble, baiting and teasing one another like children.
It was kinda cool.
"So," said Dave, and cleared his throat. Or, more likely, cleared away a smile. "How's the patient this morning?"
Things soon settled down while Dave checked Sam over.
"His eyes are closed. That's excellent. He's closer than we thought."
I stifled a yawn, and changed to human form while still under the furs, and stared down at Sam's passive features.
"How long do you think it will be before he wakes?" I must have asked that question a thousand times, but the doc didn't seem to mind hearing it again.
He smiled. "Give him a few more days, and we'll see."
Hours later, Dave had left, but the visitors kept coming.
First was Missouri, bringing a batch of chocolate fudge cake – my favourite.
Then Castiel dropped by, said hi and left. Just like that. Dude sure was weird.
Finally, Crowley appeared, grinning at me tucked in bed and cradling my son.
"Well, well, well. It's like Crufts revisited in here, eh?" he said, sauntering across the room. Without asking, he helped himself to Tobius' brandy. "What's with the puppy pile?"
Tobius growled softly from where he was lounging in wolf form across the bottom of the bed, while Marcus had been recounting some old hunting tales.
Bugger off, and leave my brandy alone!
Oh, come now, brother, Crowley took a long swig. Share and share alike.
There seemed to be some deeper, hidden meaning behind that statement which I failed to grasp, but Sire sure didn't. He was up in a flash and attempting to pin Crowley up against the wall with his huge paws, but Marcus got between them before I could even blink.
"Enough!" he said, hands up and warding off Tobius, head swivelling from one wolf to the other. "The both of you! Crowley? Did you come here for a genuine reason? Or just to taunt Tobius?"
"That depends," replied Crowley. "Are the two mutually exclusive?"
Marcus drew up to his full height and loomed over him, while Tobius stood there growling softly, head lowered and eyes gleaming dangerously.
"Alright, alright!" Crowley backed off, hands raised in submission. "I just came to check on my nephew and his son. Make sure they're comfortable and have everything they need."
By this point he'd dropped the smarmy attitude, and his concern seemed genuine enough, but I paid heed to Sire's advice from the previous evening. As much as I kind of liked his sense of humour sometimes, I resolved to treat the guy with caution.
"We're fine," I said, respectfully. "But thank you."
Crowley nodded. "Just let me know. I can get you anything you like. From more chocolate fudge cake, to as much steak and eggs as you can eat," he leaned in and winked at me. "I can even get you a TV. We've got Tivo. Not that Tobius would know what the hell that even is. Probably try to cock his leg on it…"
"Crowley," Marcus' eyes narrowed, just as Tobius' snarled, baring his long fangs. "I'm warning you."
Crowley chuckled. "He knows I'm only kidding."
As if to prove his point, he moved passed his Alpha, approached Sire, and stroked a hand gently over his snout.
Tobius didn't move away or flinch, but he did sit there a little rigidly, as though he would have loved to snap at his brother, but held himself at bay to make a point all of his own.
"So, you see, we're only teasing each other," said Crowley, stroking Tobius' ears. Just for a moment, I could swear I saw his eyes flicker strangely before he looked over at Sam and me. "Gotta love brotherly love, huh?"
What happened next shocked the hell out of us.
Sam shot upwards out of bed, growling, snarling, and beginning an instinctive, partial change. Fingers morphing into claws, fangs lengthening, Sam went straight for a surprised Marcus, and ripped into his throat.
Tobius had rapidly changed into human form and I leapt up, shocked and scared.
What the hell, Sire?
I don't know. Best guess? Crowley inadvertently stumbled upon the trigger for the rage spell, and it set Sam off.
Shit!
Yes. Indeed.
Between us we wrestled Sam away from the Alpha, forcing him face down on the bed and pinning his hands behind his back. All the while Sam was snapping and growling, bucking against us, trying to get free.
In that instant, Castiel was in the room with Sergeant Fisher and two other guards.
The look on Castiel's face was one of horror, shock, and determination as he cradled his injured Alpha and brother in his arms. Marcus' eyes were wide open, one bloodied hand clutching at his throat, the other grasping Castiel's robe.
"Hold on, brother," Castiel whispered, desperately. "You're going to be ok, just hold on."
He looked up at me, and I was struck by the deep level of fear and remorse in his eyes. Still keeping his gaze on me, he called out an order to one of his guards.
"Sergeant Fisher," he said, but he looked at me with sympathy. "Place Sam under arrest."
"What?" I yelled, shocked. "No fucking way! No one comes near him, ya hear me?"
Tobius made sure I had a firm hold of Sam, then turned and stepped between us and Fisher.
The big guy looked regretful but ready to obey orders. Tobius on the other hand, wasn't about to assist him.
"Don't do it, Sergeant," he warned in a low voice. "Don't come near my pups, or I will kill you without hesitation."
"Tobius, please," said Castiel, getting to his feet, and gently handing Marcus over to Crowley. "It's just procedure. Until Sam is declared fit and well enough to stand trial, he must reside in the cells under armed guard…"
"Stand trial?" I roared, and felt my teeth lengthen, nearly biting into my lower lip I was so damned angry. "What the hell for? He wasn't in his right mind, for God's sake! He's been sick. Crowley must have used Sam's trigger word from when he was forced under with Sleepworm!"
"And that will be ascertained by a fair trial," said Castiel, quietly, eyes solemn and sad. "I'm sorry, but that is lore. Attempted murder of the pack Alpha is punishable by death. We have to be seen to follow procedure or the pack will rebel."
After a pause the length of a heartbeat, Tobius suddenly hung his head. "He's right, Dean."
I gaped, too shocked to utter a word, and only just noticed Crowley slipping silently from the room with Marcus.
Sire turned to face me and looked me right in the eye.
"If Marcus doesn't survive, it could split the pack down the middle. We cannot be responsible for starting a civil war. Too many would die." His sigh was deep and regretful, but he wasn't finished. He glanced over at Castiel. "However, in light of Sam's recent illness and forced addiction to Sleepworm, I request that he be allowed to stay here under house arrest, where his fatherbrother and I will continue to tend to him."
Castiel tilted his head in consideration. "That is… reasonable."
"Thank you, brother," Tobius bowed his own head slightly in thanks, but that just made my blood boil all the more.
Castiel had something to add. "I must remind you that any attempts to leave the building, or escape the walls, will be met with instant death."
Tobius bowed his head again. "Understood. We won't be going anywhere."
I just stood there, my knee still on Sam's back, one hand holding his wrists captive and blinked stupidly a few times. The Beta gave a small, respectful bow and left the room, but paused to instruct two of the guards to take up their new posts outside our door on the top steps.
Sam was still wriggling and bucking my hold, and nearly managed to throw me off once or twice.
"Let's get him secured to the bed before he hurts himself," advised Tobius, anxiously.
In the end, we used our robe belts to tie him down, and it made me feel sick.
Well, holy shit. If ever I felt like the world was spinning out of control, then this was it.
The only other few times had been when John shot Sam when he was fifteen, and years later when Jake buried a silver sword in Sam's chest, nearly killing him.
But this?
This was some seriously jacked up shit.
Sam on trial for attempted murder? Or, full on murder if the Alpha didn't survive…
And, suddenly, a sixth sense struck up inside me.
"What if it wasn't an accident?" I said out loud, and Sire looked at me, eyebrows raised. "What if Crowley knew all along what the trigger word was?"
"That would be extremely difficult to prove," Tobius stated, frowning, but most notably not denying it.
"Think about it," I demanded. "Crowley was there when I found Sam. Why hadn't he set him free? Why wasn't he with Castiel, trying to free the other kids? He turned up, calm as you like. Hell, cocky bastard even lit a cigar! Yet he'd made no attempt to get the cuffs off Sam – his own great nephew. I'm telling you, it was a set up. This whole damn thing! You said it yourself, you wouldn't trust Crowley to come down on your side!"
Tobius looked distinctly unhappy with the idea, but nodded. "You're right. I don't like it, but you're right. But we still need more proof. What was the trigger?"
I thought about that. "What was the last thing he said? 'Gotta love brotherly love, huh?'"
Sam bucked violently, hissed and struggled anew. The robe belts pinched tight against his skin, so we held him still as best we could until he'd calmed down again. He panted and stared up at us, eyes filled with animal rage and fear.
"Some word in that statement," I said, excitedly. "But what? Love? Brotherly?"
No reaction. But Sam's eyes darted back and forth, like a trapped animal, desperately searching for a way out.
Tobius stared back at Sam. "Gotta."
Nothing.
"Love."
No reaction.
"Brotherly."
Again, nothing.
"Love."
Zilch.
"Gotta love brotherly love."
Nada.
Tobius huffed and shook his head. "This is impossible."
"It's got to be among those, somewhere," I persisted, anxiously. "Something in the way he said it, maybe."
Sire started shaking his head again, then suddenly stopped.
"No," he said, in a low voice. "It's not just one word, or a combination."
I stilled. "You mean…"
"Yes. You were right, Dean," Sire growled, angrily. "It's the whole statement, word for word. This was no accident."
Just to prove it, he leaned forward, hovering over Sam, and stared the kid right in the eye.
"Gotta love brotherly love, huh?" he whispered.
The effect was instant.
Sam went wild, hands clenching into fists, nails once again morphing into claws and damn near ripping his own palms to shreds.
"Crowley didn't just know the trigger," I exclaimed, with a thump to the mattress. "He fucking made it up!"
Sire nodded, eyebrows a deep V-shape.
"Agreed. It was a little too specific for Crowley to have muttered that sentence by pure accident," he said. "It's evidence enough. Castiel will have to clear Sam of the charges now."
We both stared down at Sam.
The kid was still squirming, hissing and spitting, and he wasn't really seeing us. His eyes still carried a faint sheen of purple, but it wasn't as strong as before. I wasn't sure what that meant for Sam. Kid seemed so lost and out of control and I didn't know how to help him.
"Dean, if Crowley is indeed behind all this," said Sire, quietly. "Then he's after the Alpha seat and using Sam as a stepping stone. When Crowley uttered the trigger, Sam didn't attack anyone else; he went straight for the Alpha. And as he's my grandson, the pack elders could force a vote of no confidence, preventing me from taking Marcus' place if, God forbid, he should die. And, chronologically, after me Crowley is next in line."
And a vote of no confidence would also take me out of the running for Alpha, not that I wanted it in the first place, anymore than Tobius did. But I was guessing that Tobius would gladly take the seat back than allow someone like Crowley to run the pack.
No doubt Crowley knew that, too. The bastard was cunning; I had to give him his due. Take out the Alpha, and any heir apparent with a rigged assassination attempt, followed by an execution, leaving himself totally blame free, and not a speck of blood on his own dirty little paws.
He could have used me instead of Sam. But we know he drugged my boy to force his change to human form. At the time of his kidnapping Sam was blind in human form, which meant Crowley would see him as the weakest member of our pack, and that made him the easier target.
From what Tobius had told me, if Crowley were allowed to have his say with the elder council, then the pack elders would frown upon Sam's attack, regardless of his state of mind. As co-head of the NLSU and a direct, firsthand witness to the incident Crowley would get first hearing. They would declare Sam's actions as sacrilegious and condemn the poor kid outright.
We would have to get to the pack council first, and that meant going through Castiel before Crowley could sweet talk him around. Once we secured Castiel's support and he summoned the council, Sam would be in the clear and Crowley would, alternately, be well and truly in the shit for conspiracy to assassinate the pack Alpha, kidnap, torture, murder, illegal possession and use of Sleepworm, and the organisation of the fight arenas.
And, by now, we were pretty certain that Crowley was responsible for the arenas.
But there was just one problem.
"If Crowley finds out that we can prove Sam's innocence…" I trailed off.
Sire nodded. "Indeed. Crowley has too much to gain, and everything to lose."
Yeah. He would try and get to Sam some other way, but only over my cold, dead, furry body.
TBC...
Some of you have been great and keep on posting your wonderful reviews to encourage me.
But the rest of you?
You've had a friendly warning already and you've not taken it seriously.
Let me tell you, this has not been an easy ride for me.
I've sweated and stressed over this like you wouldn't believe, especially when some readers started hassling me for the 3rd book, over and over again, like I didn't have enough crap to deal with from my family and place of work, on top of health problems of my own.
So, 'Lurkers', listen up!
Clean up your bleedin' act!
Kind regards,
ST.