Long chapter.
Anyway, have fun. :)
*****
A cat? A talking cat?
Just then, a figure appeared in her field of vision. She breathed out a sigh of relief unconsciously. Her life already had too much drama, she didn't want to have another freaky experience.
"Who are you?"
She looked up. It was a man in his late thirties. His long, light brown hair was held back in a small ponytail. Though his eyes were narrowed into thin slits, she could make out their colour. They were bright grassy green. He was tall and plump, not muscular, not lean. Wearing a plaid shirt and trousers.
"I'm Jessica," she finally replied.
"I don't know any Jessica," he said curtly.
She angled her head. "You will know one soon. I want to talk to you right now. It's very important."
He eyed her up and down slowly. Not in a leering way. And huffed.
She rolled her eyes.
He stepped aside to let her in.
The foyer was a small space that led to the living room through an archway. The living room itself was sparsely furnished. Television, a couch and two armchairs, a stool, and a DVD player. No pictures hung on the walls, except for the large portrait of a white wolf. It was so beautiful, it almost made the room radiate.
Jonathan was a simple guy, from the look of things.
"What do you want?" Again, he crossed his arms. He was sitting on the couch, while she sat on one of the armchairs facing him.
"Answers."
His eyes went wide briefly, then returned to normal. "I'm not a prophet," he said blandly.
She huffed. "I know you're not a quark psychic that does all the palm reading and tarot cards."
"What do you know about me?" His voice held caution. Loads of it.
She pursed her lips and waited for a second. "We have a common enemy. Or, rather, a common group of enemies. The people hunting me are also hunting you."
He frowned. "How sure are you about that?"
"Because I was almost killed the same way Phillip Bryce died."
This time, his hard exterior cracked. His jaw dropped. "You... You... You shouldn't know about Phillip."
"But I do. He was kidnapped by his driver and killed. They didn't demand for ransom, did they?"
He hung his head.
"They're back, Jonathan. I don't know who they are. Which is why I need help from you. If you can at least, give me a hint on what they stand for or why they do this, we might be able to put them down."
He jerked his head up. "We? What do you mean 'we'? I'm not working with an over-thinking teenager on how to bring down a group of unknown killers."
Jess sighed. "I don't expect you to agree with everything I say. But I just want a way out of this mess. Don't you?"
Jonathan didn't say anything. He rubbed his hands on his thighs.
"I know you do. And I don't care if we've been strangers before now, but this common ground is enough to make us reason together."
He rubbed a hand across his face, sighing heavily. "What you're saying, Jessica... I can't involve myself in this. No matter what."
"They'll come for you—"
"They might. You're not sure."
"I am. They killed Phillip, they also killed my dad. And with the way they do things, they make the deaths look like natural accidents." She paused, her brain's cogwheels shifted. They created natural situations to cover up the murders.
"Jessica?" He snapped his fingers. She blinked out of her thinking daze.
"What?"
"I'm not interested in your hiking game."
"It's not a game. And it's not a hike."
"Whatever it is, I'm not getting myself involved. I can handle myself. You might have to look for another psychic to do this with you." The Siamese cat walked up to him and curled at his feet.
"It's not just any psychic, Jonathan. It's psychics like me. Psychic people that know about Skeleptia." She paused to gauge his reaction.
His face was blank, but his body had tensed.
"What do you know about Skeleptia?"
"That you shouldn't toy with it. It's not a child's thing."
"I'm not a child," she grumbled.
"Are you eighteen?" She shook her head. "Then, you're a child. No argument."
"What's the essence of practising Skeleptia?" At that point, the cat stood up and approached her feet. She glared down at it. It snarled back at her, baring teeth. "Take your ugly cat away from me."
"If you're here to insult my cat, then leave."
She looked up to see that his expression had hardened. His lips were in a very thin line. Imaginary thunderclouds rumbled above his head. "You don't have to overreact. It's just a dumb cat. Besides, I was only saying the truth. It is ugly."
"Do you always say what's on your mind?"
She hesitated before answering. "No. Not all the time. Only when it's necessary."
"Well, it wasn't necessary right now to call my cat ugly, so leave."
She blinked at him. "You're gonna seriously send me away because of this?"
"Yes. Come here, Oscar." The cat pranced towards its master. "Leave, Jessi—"
"Enough!" She got to her feet and began to walk away. "You don't have to repeat yourself. I'm leaving already." After she'd crossed the threshold, she banged the front door.
Damien hurried up to her with an open umbrella since it was raining. She got into her Lamborghini, and the butler drove her home.
So much for finding answers.
*****
"Is this the place?"
Eric set down the large duffel bag he'd been carrying, on the forest soil. He took a good look around. "Definitely." He pointed to a distance. "There's the lake."
Logan spotted it and nodded. "Let's go in."
"Not like that," Eric said cautiously. "We don't know if he's an illusionist or Omni. We have to approach carefully. There could be some energy barrier around."
Logan hitched up the strap of his backpack higher on his shoulder, and followed Eric closely at his flank. They'd decided not to go in wolf form, but in human skins and with their scents hidden. In case of any surprises.
The whole forest was eerily silent, which was unusual. The boys couldn't hear even one bird's chirp. Or get the whiff of a wolf's scent. Clearly, this was revolvers' territory instead. The place reeked of magic. Strong magic.
He kicked down the front door of the cabin settled in the centre of a clearing. His partner glared at him.
"I thought you said 'quietly'."
"No need now. He must've sensed us."
Of course, he had. They were greeted by two globes of fire coming at them. They dodged the flames. More came; again, they dodged. As they escaped the fire attack, they marched further into the small house.
The person behind it was a male septuagenarian seated on a rocking chair in the kitchen. His eyes were closed, his body relaxed. But his hands moved in swirls and twists, his lips moved in a silent chant.
Logan and Eric stopped at the kitchen door. Eric opened his duffel bag.
Just then, a large red ball emanated from the man's hands and flew towards them. It scraped against Logan's shoulder. He hunched over and hissed in pain. Almost immediately, Eric tossed a knife at the man. Without moving, he dodged it. Eric tossed three daggers next. Again, he dodged them.
The man stopped chanting and moving his hands.
Eric sped towards him and grabbed his neck. "You sent two of your dogs to Miami. Why?"
The sorcerer blinked, looking passive as if his windpipe was not being constricted.
"What do you want in Miami?"
He opened his mouth. Instead of replying, he said something in Latin in a low voice. Before he could finish, Eric punched his mouth.
"Answer me, bastard!"
The sorcerer spat out blood and two teeth. The blood touched Eric's forearm. He used his other hand to hold the man's throat, then wiped his stained arm on his shirt.
Logan went towards them, and held the back of the man's head with a clawed hand. Drops of blood trickled down from the pricks on his scalp.
"If you don't talk, I'll rip your tongue out," Eric warned. He raised his left hand, and his own claws protruded.
As always, the old man never replied.
"Speak, you wretched thing," the other wolf seethed at him.
Again, silence.
Annoyed, Eric tore the side of his neck with a claw. The wound gushed out blood. More blood. "I see you love a slow death."
"Minis minis cumbulos."
Instantly, the boys felt a sharp pain in their heads. They released him and dropped to the ground. A dark shroud settled over their eyes, but they fought against it.
Eric blinked his eyes multiple times to chase the darkness away. When he looked to the other side of the chair, he saw Logan was already in the last few seconds of fighting with the darkness. Then, his body stilled as he became unconscious.
The man got up and raised his leg to cross over Eric's body. His hand shot out and caught the leg. The wizard fell. Eric lifted himself off the ground slowly, crawled to the man's weak form. He wrapped both hands around his neck this time.
"Your last chance to talk. What do you want in Miami?"
"None of your business," he said slowly.
Eric bared his vampire fangs, raised a clawed hand and scratched the man's face.
It seemed that shook the man a bit. He started stammering.
The hybrid's impatience was wearing thin. He dug two claws in the wizard's abdomen and punctured his stomach.
"The Mearnh," he coughed out.
"And?"
"The Mearnh," he repeated.
"What is it?"
He gurgled nonsense.
"Give me an answer." His claws shifted to the large intestine and tore a portion.
"Can't... Can't..." Then, he muttered a chant.
Before he could finish, Eric snapped his neck. Logan stirred. He opened his eyes.
"What did I miss?"
"A lot." He got up. He rinsed his hands at the sink and dried them with the kitchen towel.
The two Talgans spent hours ransacking the entire cabin for anything. Eric stole a few potions from a trunk, and even took a small book hidden under the bed. When they were done, they set the place on fire using Eric's pyrokinetic energy.
"How did you fight off his spell?" Logan opened the front door and tossed the bags inside.
"Protection charm." He lifted the hem of his shirt to show him the tattoo on his lower back. "You should get one."
"If I'd known, I'd have let you do all the work, and wouldn't have come at all." He went to the driver's side. "All this luggage for nothing."
"It's better to be over-prepared than to be taken unawares."
He paused for a moment. "True." He got in and started the engine.
"When I called this morning, you sounded weird. What were you doing?"
Logan pursed his lips. "None of your business."
He snorted lightly. "You were having sèx, Logan. I know that sound. Besides, the girl's voice sounded familiar."
His friend glared at him.
Eric shrugged. "She was talking. Who was she?"
"Barbara Gomez."
"The head of the student council?"
"Yeah," he said very quietly.
Eric snorted louder. "Human."
"She's just a fling."
"But she's human," he said with disgust.
Logan was silent for some time. "There's nothing wrong with sleeping with humans, Eric. I see no harm in it."
"And what happens when you unleash your wolf unconsciously?"
"I'm always in control."
Eric glanced at him and huffed. "One day, Logan, you'll snap. You'll lose control."
"I'm not like you."
Eric pursed his lips. After a long period of silence, he asked, "Aren't there young female wolves in Everglades?"
"Well... there are. I've had my share of some teenagers there. But we don't do anything past kissing and making out."
A brow arched.
Logan sighed. "It has something to do with overprotective brothers and fathers. There are rebellious girls anyway, who like to have fun. But the rest of them are just..." He shrugged. "Sheltered warriors."
"What about vampires?"
His shoulders tensed, his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "Don't mention it, Eric. I said, I'm not like you."
Eric shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "I was only suggesting."
"That's a very creepy suggestion. I don't do vampires. Wolves don't fûck vampires—"
"My dad does."
"That's your mother. You can't make natural enemies best friends."
"I'm vampire," Eric murmured.
"Half vampire," he corrected. "Hybrid. That, too, is different."
Another heavy silence fell on the van. The ride back was longer than that towards Waking Hills. They had to take the private jet that they'd left in Hartford to head back to Miami. The van would later be driven to Stefan's base by a wolf in that territory.
Before continuing their journey, they first took a diversion to somewhere in Maine to see the Longfellow Pack. Their beta gave Logan some items to pass to his wife who was living in Miami.
When they arrived in Florida at midnight, Stefan sent for them. So, they headed to Glenvar Heights first.
"They just want the Mearnh," Logan explained when he asked them what the revolvers wanted.