"But it's easy to see now, you just wanted me safe,"
Partners in crime FINNEAS
R U T H
The stone staircase wound up from the ground a level beneath in a short spiral. It folded around to the right with only a cold steel handrail to provide balance and the most discreet windows to display some kind of light. Each step down the stairs echoed as Ander led me further down, but I kept glancing upward at the last shreds of sunlight fading away.
"He was trying to hide out between the houses a few blocks away. In the alleyway behind a cafe." Ander informed me, sparing a look behind as Rueben trailed behind us. His footsteps were much quieter, smoother than Ander's heavy feet.
"This man killed two of the wolves found within the border?" I asked to confirm.
Ander nodded.
"And managed to get into the pack house without anyone picking up his scent?"
"We suspect he's working with a greater evil," Ander murmured, leading us down a narrow hallway. "Someone who has the ability to mask scents. It's rare, but some Gifted werewolves can do that."
Darker now, with only flickering lights guiding the way, the hallway came to a stop at a wide door. Muffled groans echoed through the corridor from behind the metal door as I stopped right before it, and I mentally prepared myself for the worst. But I could do this. I'd come prepared to help solve this pack's issues and brought my own. I was going to fix this.
"Reese," Ander shouted and slammed his palm on the rusted metal. I guessed it was soundproof.
The Beta opened the door as it creaked. His eyes landed on mine and I watched Reese's brows rise at the sight of me. He masked his pride with amusement as he stepped out of the way and happily welcomed me into the torture room. I called it that in my mind because the metallic scent of blood was strong enough for me - a human - to smell with my bare nose.
"I told you," A cracked voice echoed through the walls. "I don't know anything."
"That's exactly what someone who knows everything would say," Another drawl reverberated from the corner of the room.
"Agreed." Feminine voice.
Elias Zhang and Tiger-Lily Iver. I recognised them as members of Rueben's wolf army. Or whatever they called them. Warriors. Elias held a blade in his hand, carelessly swinging it around between his slender fingers. His eyes never wavered from the man seated in the middle of the room. Beside Elias, Tiger-Lily inspected a table of weapons sprawled out, ready to be used against Hobart, whose head was hung down from exhaustion.
The only source of light swayed from the ceiling in the form of a small light bulb. It brightened Anthony Hobart's hair, blonde with streaks of blood staining the strands. His torn clothes made me believe he put up a fight before his capture.
"Luna," Elias greeted me and stood straighter. "Let me introduce you to some of my friends."
He stepped aside and gestured to the tools on the table. I remained quiet, my heart pounding heavily in my chest at the number of weapons before me. My gaze darted to Rueben, who'd taken a spot behind me the moment we walked in. He'd been quiet all morning - not that he wasn't usually, but his mental guards seemed to have been pulled up again.
One step forward, three steps back.
His vivid eyes met mine, staring back at me through his thick lashes and lowered eyebrows. I wasn't sure why I was looking to him for permission. Rueben seemed as confused as I was before he simply gave me a curt nod.
"I'll tell you what I've been saying since the moment you captured me."
Hobart's hoarse voice gained my attention.
"I don't remember a single moment from the last four months," He wheezed, his voice giving out at the last few words.
Elias and Reese scoffed simultaneously while Tiger-Lily stared stoically at him. Ander sighed, shifting in his spot beside me. None of them believed Hobart. I resisted the urge to see Rueben's reaction. I couldn't rely on him or anyone else to get answers.
With determination, I stepped closer to the man tied to a chair in the middle of the 'torture room.' Pure defeat drowned his expression, and the remaining strength he'd mustered was hanging on a thin thread.
"Your name is Anthony Hobart?"
At the sound of a new voice, he lifted his head and landed his green gaze on my face. His skin was stained in dirt and blood. Dried and matted to his face, the blood captured pieces of pebbles and ripped fur on his neck, trailing down to his chest. Hobart had been on the run for months.
"Yes," He replied, squinting his eyes to recognise me. I didn't think he did. Why would he? Jerome never mentioned him to me, but he could've mentioned me to him.
"Do you know where you are?"
I needed to start with the basics. I didn't know how much information Reese had gotten out of him yet, but I wanted to know for myself.
"Europa," Hobart murmured, darting his gaze to the spot Rueben stood. "I got back a while ago. I was traveling, but I recognise the smell. The scent of murder taints the soil here-"
A low, warning shot through the walls. Deep and angry, Rueben released a snarl that I knew came from the wolf inside him, from far within his chest.
"And do you know where you're from?" I ignored the power-play and continued questioning him. " Which pack do you belong to?"
His tired eyes met mine again. Light eyebrows drew together. A pause. Hobart opened his mouth to speak, but shut it just as quickly.
"Don't remember?" I assumed.
"I do," He shook his head.
"Then say it," Reese, stepping forward, gritted through his teeth.
So impatient, that one.
"What's stopping you from telling me?" One step closer and Ander's hand shot to my arm. I turned to face him and raised my brows.
"Careful," He mumbled before letting go and stepping back.
"Something," Hobart began, but lowered his gaze to the ground as he sighed. "Something in my mind is stopping me. It's blank. My memory- I can't make sense of what's real and what's not."
The room stilled at his words.
Memory. The only werewolf I knew who could take memories away was standing behind me, but I knew to cross him out of my suspect list. If Rueben could do it, so could another wolf - maybe one with the same status as he held. An Alpha?
"That's okay," I told him when he continued to shake his head. "What about the last thing you remember? Can you tell me that?"
Hobart moved around in the wooden chair, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. His shoulders rolled back, and the clinking of the chains holding his hands together behind his back became louder.
"I was at home," He recalled, watching me with a distant look. "My wife was calling me from her office. I was in the basement, fixing an old car-"
"Is that information really necessary-" Elias grumbled, and Ander shot him a look that made him go quiet.
"Then I heard another voice."
"A male voice?" I whispered, preparing myself to hear Jerome's name.
"Yes," Hobart nodded, his gaze finally focusing on me again. "Yeah, a stranger's voice. His words were like a flat tone. He was telling me to listen. Demanding that I drop everything to hear him. And I did because he was controlling me, manipulating my mind."
Reese chuckled without humour.
"A Gifted wolf," He stated the obvious. "An idiot manipulated by another idiot."
"Well, I didn't have a choice," Hobart hissed at Reese, and I let him rage.
If Anthony was telling the truth, then Jerome wasn't just a werewolf. He was a werewolf with a Gift, something I didn't have much knowledge about, but I knew it wasn't anything good. According to our hostage, Jerome could manipulate or compel another being.
The thought was morbid, and I felt sick to my stomach knowing that an evil person could have that kind of ability.
A munching noise crackling from behind me grew louder until a man I assumed was Grant entered the room, holding a packet of fries in one hand and throwing a fry into his mouth with another.
"Mm," He closed his eyes and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Food. I love it."
"Grant," Tiger-Lily scolded him, but he only ate another fry and walked closer than necessary to Anthony.
"When was the last time you ate, Hobart?" Grant took out a fry and waved it in the hostage's face. "It was while ago, wasn't it?"
Anthony narrowed his eyes at Grant as he brought the fry beneath Anthony's nostrils. "Smells good, huh? Yeah, well you're not getting any."
"Get out, Grant," Rueben finally snapped, and the frustration in his tone gutted me.
It felt like we weren't getting anywhere. We were stuck in the same place, and no matter how much progress we thought we made, it led back to the starting point.
"Did he give you a name? The voice. What did he say?" I pinned my focus on Anthony, keeping my tone open and welcome. He needed to be comfortable enough to speak. "The more answers we get, the more food we'll bring you."
"Yeah, I'll give you some fries if you answer-"
"You're scrubbing the compound toilets if you don't get out, like right now," Elias threatened Grant, and he was out of the room before the sentence was complete.
Anthony grunted, rolling his wrists around until they were bright red. His face scrunched in pain as he rolled his shoulders back and looked up at me with defeat laced in his eyes.
"Jerome. He didn't say it, but over the last four months, it's the only name that plays over in my head. I'm not even sure if that's truly his name, but I- it's like an instinct that I know his name," He answered. "He told me to kill, and I did. If I tried to refuse- You have to understand that I'd never kill an innocent being."
Anguish became Anthony's prominent expression as he spoke to me, making sure to hold my eyes the entire time. He wasn't lying. I believed him.
"But I tried to refuse, and he threatened to hurt my family. Nothing is more important to me than my family. Please, understand."
I nodded at his frantic tone. "I do. I understand, Anthony. Can you give me more information? Any environments you remember? Uh, any... specific or intelligible feature you recall?"
He squeezed his eyes shut, shifting beneath his eyelids as the man filed through his memories.
"I can see flashes of- of something, but they're not mine."
"Flashes of what? Memories?" I tilted my head.
"Yeah, yeah, Jerome's memories. Or maybe what he was seeing at the time. It's like, when he manipulated me, a part of his mind latched onto mine, and I could see where he was. Not all the time, though, just sometimes."
Anthony's throat bobbed, and I registered that he might've been thirsty. He was cooperating incredibly well with me. I was satisfied with these answers, most of them anyway. We were getting somewhere, and he deserved some water for his efforts.
Besides, I wasn't the type to refuse anyone a basic human need.
"How about we get those hands free?" I turned to Ander. Not for permission. "Keys, please."
He inhaled sharply before going around to the unchain the silver biting through Anthony's wrists. The moment they clinked against the ground, he released a relieved cry, bringing his hands to his lap. He tried to soothe them, yet the bright burns did not heal as they would've if the chains had been made of steel. The silver had done its damage.
"Can we bring him some water?" I asked Elias as he was closest to the water bottle adjacent to the table of weapons.
No hesitation, Elias followed my request and handed the bottle to Anthony. It took him a couple of tries to get his hands to stop trembling before he was downing water like he hadn't consumed anything for years.
"Better?"
A curt nod.
"Good," I sighed heavily before jumping onto the subject again. "So, in these memories, what could you make out?"
With some replenished energy, Anthony breathed easier. He was more confident in the way he held his head up to look at me, a little more comfortable. Open. I hoped he'd trusted me enough to tell me everything he knew.
"Every small detail counts," I reminded him.
"Well, trees. For miles and miles. Open fields. Somewhere rural, but not here. It was close. Sometimes, I could even hear sounds of water trickling, like rain. Or a river? I don't know, but it sounded like a waterfall. Possibly."
Reese nodded from my peripheral vision.
"We can work from that," He firmly stated before turning to look at Rueben. "Right?"
"It's a good start," Rueben murmured. "But we need more on the victims. They were important. They were family. Was there a reason he wanted them dead? Or did he order you to kill freely?"
Anthony flinched at the word 'freely.'
"No," He almost shouted. "No, I would never kill anyone freely! I mean, how do you think I felt when I woke up to myself covered in the blood of members from my own pack? I killed them with my bare hands, without having any idea how or why I killed them. It was like I was possessed!"
Tension coiled around the room in shadows, bouncing off the corners and around us. His words. Rueben. That must've been exactly how he felt when he unwillingly hurt those women. Was he consumed by the same rage? I would be. The unknowing of everything bottled up- I didn't know how he was still standing so composed.
Anthony released a shaky breath. "Oh," He whispered. "I get it. I see it now."
"What?" I replied in the same tone.
"It's about him," He pointed at Rueben. "It's all about him and the Cursed Children of the Moon."
A sharp laugh escaped from Anthony's mouth, a disbelieving chuckle.
"Don't you see it? The curse! He's using it against you," He addressed Rueben. "Oh, that evil man. He's going to use it against all of us."
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a/n: thank you for waiting patiently for updates <33
second year of uni is no joke!!! it's week 4 and i'm still catching up on week 2 content :')
everything is a mess, but we will get through it. it's just a phase. nothing stays the same forever!
[NOT EDITED]