The Many Lives of Grayson Murdock (boy x boy)

The Many Lives of a Hostile Invasion

“It’s no use,” Grey sighed.

He had been trying to turn into the wolf for the last thirty minutes, really more time than they actually had. Every minute that they wasted trying to do this was a minute Jasper lost. They stood in the woods miles from the Storm mansion and Wilhelm and Jack were trying to urge him to shift. ‘Give over to your wolf side’ they had said. They had urged him to just get angry. He was all of those things, angry, hurt frustrated. However, no matter how much he felt all these things, he just couldn’t will his body to make the change.

“Nobody shifts until they’re ready,” Christophe had finally said. Grey didn’t want to listen, he was still pissed off and as far as Grey was concerned he would be kept at arm’s length. “Different emotions bring out different things in people; you have to figure out what brings out the wolf in you.”

Though they sounded like cheap song lyrics Grey had to admit that they made sense.

“Until then,” Jack said. He flung something at Grey and on instinct he caught it right before it hit his face. “You can take the car; you’ll need it to keep up with us.”

Grey looked down at the keys, then up at his comrades. They had stripped off their shirts and their bodies were twisting at odd angles that weren’t humanly possible. Though it looked painful, Grey knew it wasn’t. Maintaining human form was painful, the wolf was what they were meant to be. The wolf form was ethereal, majestic. They were all different colors.  Wilhelm was of course the biggest. His brown fur had streaks of blond and orange in it. Jack was smaller and had a rich deep brown fur; though he was small, he was agile and seemed to be made for speed. Christophe was deep grey and looked both sturdy and agile, Grey credited it to the fact that he was the most ancient.

Deep in the pit of Grey’s stomach something flopped. There was a part of him, even bigger than he would have liked to admit, that longed to stand among them in the form that they were in. However, he knew Christophe was right; he would change on his own time.

“Follow us,” he heard Christophe’s voice in his head. He wasn’t even mildly shocked, ever since becoming a wolf he had learned to take things like voices in his head with stride.

The longing came back when he heard Wilhelm howl to the moon and the take off toward the castle in the night.

                             .                            .                            .

“This is ridiculous mi amour,” Camille stated. It was well into the night and she knew that Grayson and the others were long gone, but she was still angry.

Annette sighed. She hated when her mate was sad, but she was willing to bet her entire fortune that she would hate it more if she was dead. Her mate had always been adventurous. When she had met her Camille was raising an all female army to battle in the Spanish Inquisition. Still there hadn’t been a day that had gone by since then that Annette didn’t want to protect her.

“I’ve met Atticus Storm,” Annette stated. Her voice was a mere whisper as she struggled with the memories that surfaced with this story. “I would take a silver bullet to the head before I willingly send you off on a mission to his house.”

This caught Camille’s attention.

“When did you meet Atticus Storm?” Camille asked. For a moment she guessed, Annette had forgotten how inquisitive Camille could be. She was too curious for her own good. Annette doubted that Camille knew it, but her ability changed her eye color based on her mood.

“I told you…before,” Annette whispered, regretting opening her mouth.

“No you didn’t,” Camille stated.

“Uh...yeah I did, that one time…you just don’t remember,” Annette stated.

“Annie…” Camille started, with a tone that meant business.

Annette sighed; she knew it would come out eventually. In fact, she wondered how it hadn’t come out years ago.

“Atticus Storm… Is my father,” she whispered. She had never told anyone, she had always lied when people asked her about her parents.

“What?...You said you were the long lost daughter of Catherine the Great?” Camille whispered. She was a little too gullible for her own good.

“Atticus Storm is my father, and I have hated him till this very day,” She whispered.

“Why,” Camille asked. Annette suspected that she couldn’t control the question.

“Because, he killed my mother,” she whispered.

Camille was silent for once. Annette realized that she was waiting on the rest.

“He knew that stupid cure when those blood suckers bit her, and he just stood there and watched her die.”

“Oh Mi Amour,” Camille whispered. She wrapped her arms around her mate and let the purr in her chest sooth her.

“There on a failed mission,” Annette whispered. “My father wouldn’t even save his own wife, what makes you think he’s going to save Jasper?”

“Maybe-” Camille started.

“There is no maybe Cam, my father is a selfish idiot and an asshole who only cares about himself. The only way he’s giving up that secret is on his way to hell.”

Camille stroked her hair silently.

After awhile they heard footsteps.  Scenting the air they smelled the familiar scent of the twins, but it was mixed with something else. Curious they turned toward the entrance and were instantly on their feet. The scent of vampire filled the air like a stench permeating.

“Adonis, Abel, why would you bring this leach into the house,” Annette hissed, her wolf chomping at the bit. She had been on high alert ever since Jasper was attacked.

“I resent that,” the leach said in a cool voice. Camille could instantly tell she was ancient because her accent belonged to nothing in this time period.

Annette growled low.

“Look at her eyes,” one of the twins spoke. Camille wanted to scoff at such a trivial matter but did as instructed and gasped. She had been around for the times of the vampire wars. When Light and fought Dark and lost. She remembered the blackness of the Dark creature’s eyes. Her mamma had told her to never trust anything when you couldn’t see the whites of its eyes.

Light vampires had crystal blue eyes that were clear of anything dark. The woman was a light vampire, the breed that did not feed directly from humans. Maybe the last of her kind.

“I am Celeste, Queen of the Light Vampires.” Her voice was cold, but years of life had made her that way. Her head never looked towards their direction, always looking up like the noble that she was.

“What do you want Celeste?” Annette hissed, good vampire or not she was still one of the them

“Necruli is escaping; the spell that imprisoned her is breaking.”

“Tell us something we don’t know chica,” Camille scoffed.

“That she’s n0t coming when the prophecy says so,” Celeste whispered. “She’s coming tonight.”