Hey everybody! Long time no see! Welll I'll just get right to it, Enjoy Chapter 25!
~ALex
The library was small, but it was packed with shelf after shelf of books. Some were old and worn, their binding beginning to fray. Their titles were inscribed in golden or black calligraphy into the cloth-like covers. They were in foreign languages, making the writing on the spine seem all the more enchanting. Some were even in odd pictographs that I couldn't begin to make out. Other books were newer, in their shiny plastic covers, and far less interesting to me.
I was stuck there with Connor as he did his work for the pack. Andrew had revoked his vouch, but Connor had stepped in and given his own. I hadn't seen Andrew since, except for the passing glance in the house. Though even then, the pass was so brief that I was unsure I had seen him at all.
"Maggie," I looked over to Connor. He held a stack of papers in his hands, ready to be reviewed and debated by the council. "I need to take these downstairs. You can sit with Cece if you'd like. I might be a while."
I nodded and followed him to the infirmary. As I sat down next to Cece's bed Connor whispered something to the nurse. She looked at me, hesitation and worry in her eyes. No doubt, she feared I would escape and the blame would be put on her. She eyed me curiously as Connor left. I met her gaze and she looked away quickly, embarrassed at being caught staring.
"Hey Maggie." My eyes snapped back to Cece. Her eyes were half-open, one still purple and swollen slightly. The cuts were almost gone now, small, fading pink lines in their place. She looked tired and weak, as if the life had been sucked out of her.
"How are you feeling?" I sat on a stool and grasped her cold hand in mine. It was so small and fragile, like the hand of a china doll, delicate, cold porcelain.
"I'm alright," she whispered. "A little sore here and there, but I'll live. I heard about the council's decision." Cece looked at me sympathetically.
"Yeah. Looks like I'll be singing Jail House Rock for a least a little while longer." She choked on a laugh and dry, throaty coughs began to rack her small frame. I helped her sit up and gave her the glass of water that was sitting on the bedside table. "Are you ok?" I asked.
"I'm fine... The nurse said they did some damage to my lungs and throat, but it should heal up in a few days."
"Ah the perks of being a mythical creature! At least there is one." I said sarcastically.
"This coming from the girl who can fly and deflect a speeding bullet. You have nothing to complain about, Super-girl." I chuckled, a smile coming to my lips for the first time in quite a while. "The nurse said I could get up today, you know, as long as I have someone with me. It must be boring hanging around Connor all day. That guy is all work, no play. We could go for a run, or go into town, or-"
"You need rest Cece. We'll have time to do all that when your better."
She looked down, sadness in her eyes. "Will we?" She looked out the window, staring at nothing.
"You should get some sleep," I advised.
"No...no...I'm fine." She mumbled, her eyes drooping.
"Mmhm..." Beep. I pressed the medication button, sending sedatives thought her veins.
"Really...I'm..." Beep. She lay back onto the bed, her eyes fighting to stay open, but her heavy lids winning out. "Fine..." Beep. She slipped into blissful unconsciousness and I set the button down. I sat there, holding her hand as she slept. I listened to the calming beat of her heart, the only noise in the silence.
"Maggie?" I jumped at Connors voice.
"Yeah?" I whispered.
He looked at Cece and, realizing she was asleep, lowered his voice. "Why don't you come to the kitchen? It's past lunch, you must be hungry." I nodded and got up slowly, carful to be as quiet as possible, and followed him silently to the kitchen. I sat at the counter as Connor made us cold-cut sandwiches. Elli walked in and took Connors sandwich from his hand, taking a bite out of it.
"Hey," she mumbled.
Connor sighed. "Elli, can't you make your own sandwich?"
"Now why would I do that when you can make it for me?" She smiled and finished the sandwich off. "So what's new at the top?"
"Not much," he replied. "I finished the monthly supplies and got the Jeep back from the garage. Damn mechanics took a week to fix a simple problem with the breaks." He handed me my sandwich and I mumbled a thanks. "Danny hasn't made any recent moves, but he's no doubt planning an attack as we speak."
"Any movement on this traitor business?" I piped in.
"No, unfortunately. I have no clue who it is. Though whoever he is he must be someone at least close to someone in high ranks or he wouldn't know the exact details of everything. But beyond that, no, no movement."
"Connor! Connor!" a boy ran into the kitchen, panic on his face.
"What's wrong Lucas?" Connor grasped the boy's shoulder to keep him from falling over. The boy bent double with his hands on his knees, breathing as if he had run a marathon.
The boy stared at Connor, at loss for words, his eyes filled with pity and fear. His worried face made him look much older than the fifteen he no doubt was. "I'm so sorry, Alpha..." He looked down and handed Connor a newspaper. Connor looked at the paper, his eyes traveling back and forth across the ink, growing wider in terror as he read further.
"Where did you get this?" He asked the boy, his breath shallow and panic-stricken. The boy didn't answer; he merely stood there, petrified under Connors glare. "I said, where did you get this?!" Connor shoved the paper in to the boy's chest, his eyes in panic and his teeth clenched.
"I...it was i-in the newspaper rack a-at the gas station, s-sir. I'm so-"
"No! Shut up! It's wrong!" He stormed out of the kitchen, pulling a cell phone out of his pocket and dialing furiously. I grabbed the newspaper from the counter. On the front page there were pictures of ten women, all head shots, as if they were school photos, only the women were at least in their thirties. Their smiling faces were in contrast to the gruesome headline.
Mass Killing. 10 Women Dead.
The mauled bodies of ten women were found last night at the home of Elizabeth Sinclair. According to Patricia Lewis, who discovered the bodies shortly before 5pm, she had been invited to a party at the Sinclair home last night. According to the M.E's preliminary report, injuries to the body appear to be inflicted by animal teeth and claws similar to a dog attack, but the police have not ruled out foul play. Pending full investigation, authorities are advising residents to exercise caution by locking doors and staying inside as much as possible. Any unusual behavior should be reported to your local police department. Next of kin are being notified. Authorities are trying to locate Connor Sinclair, son and only living relative to Elizabeth Sinclair. Anyone with information on his location, or any other information pertaining to this case, please call the anonymous tip line at 541-618-1847. More on A-4.
I ran straight upstairs to the library where I knew he would be. The room was a mess, books were scattered across the floor and chairs were thrown across the room, lying broken at the foot of the walls. He was hunched over at his desk, his head in his hand.
"I called her house...," he mumbled. There was a silence, deadly and suppressing. He looked over at me, his eyes read and swollen. His hair lay disheveled from a nervous hand brushing though it. "The police answered..." a pang of empathy racked though me. "He killed her Maggie..."
"Who?"
"Danny of course! He stood so quickly his chair flew across the floor. His hands curled into fists as he spoke. "That wasn't a party, it was a pack meeting. They were mauled by dogs Maggie. Put the pieces together! That bastard killed his own mother!" with one swing he sent the desk shattering against the wall. "This is the last straw. He's gone too far this time."
"Connor?" he ignored me, stalking out of the room and heading down the stairs. I followed, his deathly silence keeping me quiet. We came to the courtyard and he shifted, leaping onto the picnic table. His howl was sorrowful and pained; the howl of loss. The pack gathered and he shifted back. He stood atop the picnic table, staring over the assembling crowd, tensed and angry.
I noticed Cece out of the corner of my eye, hobbling out of the front door on crutches, the nurse at her side. This meeting was important, everyone could tell. By the look on Connors face, the pitch of his voice, or the foul scent of death in the air, they could tell.
"Everyone," He began. "I have received some...disturbing news. Danny mounted an attack on a pack meeting last night... He killed ten of our Alpha-females." There were gasps among the crowd, some grieving wails that turned into weeps and tears. "I'm launching a counter attack, one that will decide the outcome of this war. It has gone on far too long. Too many have died for my patience. I will gather our forces and destroy Danny and his pack, or die trying. I will pull in as many reinforcements as I can, but I'm sure he will do the same. We will most likely be out-numbered, but I believe we can win. I won't force anyone to fight, and I'm not going to lie to you, it will be dangerous. If anyone wants to back out, no one will think any less of you, but speak now. Who will join me?"
The crowd was silent, a look of foreboding on their faces.
"But what about James?" Someone called out.
"How are we supposed to beat him?"
Arguments of worry and concern broke out. They were all talking at once, turning into one, frightened mob. Nevertheless, the consensus was clear: James was undefeatable.
I knew what I had to do.
I jumped onto the table and stood beside Connor, spreading my wings for show. They spanned the entire table and beyond, creating a black and white set behind us. The black markings were swirled in their hypnotizing design but still the mob raged on. I beat them once, causing a wave of air to pass over the crowd, silencing them. They stared at me, awe stricken and silent.
"I will fight!" I declared. "I am just as powerful as James, and I have one thing he doesn't have, a pack that is loyal to their Alpha because they believe he is right! Not because of fear. They may out number us but they fight without reason, without passion, simply because they are forced into soldier hood. We fight because we choose to. We have passion. We have reason! And that is more powerful than numbers. With Connor at the lead, we will win this war! Who's with me?" The crowd rose in an uproar, cheering and clapping. Startled birds flew from the trees around us, creating a cloud of black in the sky. The cheering and yelling continued and broke into a chant.
"I will fight! I will fight!" they chanted. "We will win!"