The Wolf's Call to the Moon

Hi everyone! So here is another chapter since I've been getting sooooo many emails! It really means a lot to me to know that people like the stories I'm writing. So here's to you the readers who wrote in! WCTM won't be updated as regularly as TAM but rest assured that I am slowly working on it (try checking only once a month, not every week!) The story arc has become complex and I still am having a bit of a writer's block with how to move it forward so I'm open to ideas. Who knows, maybe one of your emails might put that spark right back!

So for now, enjoy!

***

Clay kept to himself; his face glued to the windows of the airplane and his body pressed as close as possible to the sidewall. He couldn't risk the chance of being caught off-scent or off-character.

Sophie's life, after all, was in his hands. One wrong move and she could be killed for treason.

"You're awfully quiet."

Clay pretended not to hear but when Alkina sat next to him, his senses went on hyper-alert. He did not have to oblige her but Sophie - a lower ranking wolf -would be seen as insubordinate if she continued ignoring an Alpha.

"I don't like plane rides that's all."

"I don't think so Sophie." Clay held his breath as amber eyes looked searchingly into his own blue. "I know you are thinking of him."

His brows creased. "What? I don't understand."

"Please. Do I look stupid to you?" she huffed; leaning comfortably into her seat. "I know you've been visiting his cell - a tad too often I must say. And I've seen the way you look at him. All baby blue eyed and pursed lips. Honestly revolting."

Clay didn't know what to say but Alkina wasn't concerned about that.

"I can help you with that," she whispered.

Curious, Clay leaned forward; a lock of his hair gently caressing her arm. Intrigued by the colour, Alkina took a hold of it and rubbed the strands between her fingers.

"Interesting choice. You even tried to mould yourself to look like Mallory. A tad pathetic now aren't we?" She tapped Sophie's cheek mockingly. "I know how you can make him like you. But first, you must help me."

Suspicious, Clay crossed his arms over his chest. "How?"

"Help me find the key to the sarcophagus and kill it. That will stop the full awakening of the Risen. If the Risen is stopped, Mallory's life will be spared. She is after all, fuel for the hungry."

Clay had to reign in his claws. He hated this woman in front of him so intensely that he could have ripped out her throat just for being so callous. But for the Sophie's sake, he attempted a sad whimper; his eyes glistening slightly.

"But... it doesn't matter! She is his mate and I'm... nobody. He can never like me like he yearns for her."

Alkina merely rolled her eyes at Sophie's emotional display. "To be honest, Mallory is already dead. From what Jean-Pierre has reported so far, there are too many Risen in that vicinity for any humans to have survived. But you my dear, have the honour of finding her body and bringing it back to him. He'll understand."

"Understand what?"

"That humans are not born to mate. They are weak. They die."

Choking back on his fake tears, Clay thumped his chest and tried to process the information. His wolf was going mental; the flurry of emotions overriding his system. Mallory couldn't be dead! He would know... right?

"Such an important job... why isn't Jean-Pierre the one? Why me?" Sophie's gentle voice came out calm; denoting nothing of the state of Clay's mind.

"He's a man. When it comes to women, they all have a weakness. But you my dear - you can be just like me. Women to women, we shouldn't give a shit. We step on whoever to get up the chair of command."

Clearly disgusted, Clay turned away.

Only to notice his hands swelling; the veins slowly becoming more visible.

Folding his arms, he quickly hid them from view and disciplined his mind to remain focused. Just one more slip like that and he would have sacrificed the lives of two women.

"Sophie? Are you alright?"

Clay slowly raised his gaze to meet hers. She was looking more annoyed than concerned for Sophie.

"Yes... I'm sorry. I was just thinking of things."

Alkina raised an eyebrow.

"Well... I don't know if you know anything about this but Clay told me that his mother is still alive." Clay caught the look of pure venom in her eyes. "Is she?"

"Ayla? Please. I just said that to rile him up," she scoffed as she got up to leave.

Clay knew it was now or never. Clutching her wrists, he willed her to turn and face him.

"But... there were never records of her death no?"

Her body turned slightly, the twist in her waist creating a strain that was visible on her neck. The vein that throbbed there was the only sound that stood between the both of them in that moment.

Amber eyes stared deep into blue.

SMACK

"Don't you ever dare touch me again."

Clay wiped his hand over the side of his lips; the taste of blood slowly attacking his tastebuds. "I just wanted him to like me..."

The show of weakness seemed to calm her down for she took a seat once more beside him. Her silence was a cue.

"I just thought that if I found out more, he might view me more favourably..." Clay attempted to wipe tears from his doll eyes. "She seemed important to him."

A sneer.

"Well, he was her only child so I suppose they were important to each other." Alkina shrugged into her seat. "I can't say if she's alive -only that we didn't find her body."

"Why... how was she killed? In the line of duty?"

At the look of pure naivety on Sophie's face, Alkina tilted her head back and laughed rumbustiously.

"She was a traitor! There was no duty in that!" Her fingers flicked away at an escaping tear before her face turned solemn and serious. "She was an Alpha and she dared to bring a Risen into our midst. Trying to convince us that peace was possible."

Clay clutched the arm rest tight. "But it is! We have not been warring for decades!"

"Stupid naive girl. The peace only came into effect after the war. Risen attacked us because they saw us as kidnapping one of their kind, to torture for information. Countless of our own died because of her. In the end, we had to punish her and persecute her entire packline."

"But... there were innocents..."

"They were abominations! Half-breeds!"

"What... I don't understand!"

Alkina was on her feet once again but this time she did not turn.

Very softly, under her breath, she whispered, "Ayla fell in love with a Risen. God knows what she did to contaminate her bloodline."

Clenching his fist tight, Clay fought against his impulse to squeeze her throat between his fingers. Instead, he gave a calm, albeit enthusiastic reply. He needed to know; needed to understand his past.

"Where do I start?"

The edge of her mouth tipped with approval.

***

Though his eyes hung like golf balls loose from his rubbery sockets, visual details were not lost to the Forbidden One.

And what he saw repulsed him.

Beyond the physical, the auras encapsulating each Elder were a mirror into their thoughts, moods and feelings. Their minds and hearts were riddled with corruption, distrust and lust for power.

Pathetic.

Why have I been awaken?

The question boomed like an amplifier in the Risens' head.

Accusatory glances erupted amongst the thirteen Elders. Many had their heads hung low; eyes avoiding contact with each other. Their lacklustre response caused them dearly for they soon found themselves on their knees, choked by the grip of their own hands over their throats.

They should not have been so defiant.

At such a close proximity, he could order their death as naturally as their next breath but he had other plans. Disappointing as they are, their blood was a necessary life force he needed to regenerate; their memories and experiences these past decades critical for his cognitive re-awareness.

Besides, death it seemed was never permanent. These imbeciles had no right awakening him. He had

chosen

to die to that his daughter could live.

And now... she would have to die.

Anger bubbled within him - the rising blood pressure causing him to start seeing spots of red.

"Where's my companion?" he bellowed; their stunned silence fuelling his annoyance. "The tomb that was buried with me!"

"Gone my Lord... We had to destroy..."

The one who dared speak had half his face cindered off in flash of cold blue fire.

HOW DARE YOU MOCK ME.

He knew that she was still untouched. Though their bodies had gone into hibernation in death, their minds were still alert, constantly touching each other.

"I do not accept failure."

Thirteen heads bowed at his feet, their allegiance sworn as blood coursing through his body. On their knees, each Elder surrendered at the might of their Sire; blood droplets flying out of every open pore in their body as though sucked out by an invisible force.

Blood swirled over his remains, forming vessels then muscles; ending with a fresh coating of skin that was taut and befitting of a Risen in his prime.

The Forbidden One finally took his first full breath in centuries; eyes prying opened. The sting of humidity and heat was like a warm welcome to his sense.

With hair flowing down like shimmering silk and skin smooth and taut, he stood up to his full height, leaving no trace of the sleep that had robbed his youth.

Lord Aldéric the Red had finally awoken.

But he was not done yet. There was still one part of him missing -

His heart.

***

Mallory no longer smelled like a human.

Back in the decrepit wooden shack he considered a safe house; Yuli studied his guest with great interest.

"Mallory, Mallory, Mallory," he chimed as her eyes of pure jade concentrated on him. Was it just him or was the red ring around her irises becoming more pronounced? They now encapsulated the inner green, making them appear frighteningly glow-in-the-dark.

"Why are we here?" she demanded. "I have to head back! Release me!"

Yuli continued to watch her like a cat fixated on a pendulum clock. She didn't appear frightened or confused. If anything, she looked pissed.

"Do you remember who you are?" he finally asked.

"My name is Mallory."

"And where are you from, Mal-lor-ry?" Her name, drawled out in a sarcastic sneer.

For a moment, her gaze faltered. "I... I don't know. But..."

"But you remembered..."

Mallory stared intently into the lead-like eyes of her kidnapper. Who was this man? What did he think she remembered?

"Nothing," she announced, wary of the disappointment on his face. What was she supposed to say? That she tried to reawaken a corpse hoping that it would be her father? Who does that? It was stupid anyway. It didn't work didn't it?

Mustering the best stern look she could do, Mallory jabbed a finger on her captor's chest. "Mind your own business."

Yuli simply threw his head backwards and laughed. "Unfortunately my sweet, you

are

my business. You have a hefty price on your head and every being on this earth will be looking for you in a matter of days -"

"Beings? What do you mean beings? Vampires like you?!"

Yuli cocked his head to the side; revelling in the sound of cracking bones and tendons snapping back into place.

"We prefer the term 'Risen' but call us what you like. But don't think for a second that you are innocent. You opened that tomb. You are responsible for all of this."

All this? Mallory didn't understand. Had she caused some sort of epidemic unknowingly?

"Jamie said that the tomb belonged to his ancestor. Does that mean he is a vamp -Risen too? But he looks so... normal!"

Yuli sighed. Until Mallory's memory returned on its own, he was going to have to keep her safe. By now, the Forbidden One would have awakened and soon he will be looking for his heart.

"You need to eat," he instructed, throwing a greasy paper bag at her feet. "You're useless dead."

Coughing up her strength, she spat on him in a spatter of fear, anger and disgust. She had barely taken her next breath when he appeared behind her, his hands taking a fistful of her hair and jerking it back forcefully.

"You fucking eat!" he roared, pushing her head down hard until her nose was inches away from the bag of food on the floor.

And then he was gone.

Mallory curled up against the wall, bringing her knees close to her chest. Rocking herself gently, she willed herself not to cry. No one was going to hear her.

***

Clay hated the fact that he had to report and be subservient to Jean-Pierre. The tracker was a dominant strong leader of the team but he was still of a lower rank than he was. Accepting orders was going to be a problem.

"Sophie, did you relay the news to the prisoner as instructed?" asked Jean-Pierre as a way of welcoming. Clay noted that he looked physically drained; his eyes bloodshot and his hands jerking occasionally - a side effect of adrenaline overload. Clay couldn't blame him. He had been on extraction missions alone for the past 48 hours, rescuing Light Walker students who had barricaded themselves in the campus bunkers and stores.

"I did. Jean-Pierre, you need to rest. Reinforcements are here now so tell me what to do."

Weary eyes looked up at him. "Now is not the time Sophie. Gather the rest of the trackers. We are going to enter the Risen lair."

Clay remained rooted. Just what the hell was Jean-Pierre thinking? Five Trackers entering a blood-lust nest? They couldn't even defend themselves if their lives depended on it.

"We should bring Enforcers. They're combat-trained and would protect us better. Surely you don't hope to come out of the lair alive?" said Clay, squeezing his vocal cords to mimic the high-pitched shriek of a woman.

Jean-Pierre frowned. Sophie was not one to disregard his orders so openly.

"Do as you are ordered, Tracker. I will not repeat myself."

Gnarling to himself, Clay left the room in search of the other trackers, based on his memory of their scent. Two grey and one brown wolf.

He only hoped that they wouldn't need to shift into wolf form during this recon. Altering his features was one thing but there was no

obfuscate

ability that could change a wolf's pelt. Their beasts don't play by the same rules.

"So what's the plan?"

Four trackers, including himself disguised as Sophie, crowded around Jean-Pierre.

"According to my sources, the tomb has been opened and the Risen within awakened. It may be too late to destroy it now but we have to track down the other tomb. It is missing but hopefully not destroyed. Finding it might give us clues on how to take down the Risen."

Jean-Pierre paused, taking out a building layout of the archaeology lab. Raising his gaze, he locked them on Sophie, a dominant gesture to ensure her obedience.

"We are not heading directly into this dark hole," he continued, jabbing his fingers on a part of the map. "Instead, we check the security footage. This area is on 24 hour surveillance. One feeds directly to the Risens but the other, is simultaneously broadcasted onto Dr Mallory Roux's laptop. We will go to her office."

"And we're just going to waltz in?" Clay was sceptical.

"Yes. We are, after all her students." Looking down at his watch, Jean-Pierre finished up the last touches of his appearance and gestured towards the door. "Thirty minutes in and out."

***

Five trackers, moving silently; feet as light as feather over the marbled office floor. It took Jean-Pierre two seconds to pick the door lock of Mallory's front door using a paper clip and a pencil.

Clay was impressed. Where he would have used brute force, the tracker had completed the job efficiently and with no mess.

"10 min."

Not hindered by their size, trackers were agile and moved with strict preciseness. Not a breath was wasted, nor a gesture spent unless necessary. Like a coordinated hive of bees, the four trackers took apart Mallory's laptop, checked for hidden bugs and salvaged what notes and footage they could find about the tombs.

Apparently, Mallory also kept a detailed diary and organiser - something that Jean-Pierre had entrusted to Clay, in his capacity as Sophie, a woman.

"Make sense of it. I have no time to browse through nail or hair appointments."

Holding back his snarl, Clay opened to the last entry of her diary, hoping to understand her sudden disappearance.

Molere. I never really understood if I was named for happiness or sadness

Two squiggly drawings.

A code?

"Let's move," ordered Jean-Pierre, his body halfway through the front door. "Within two minutes, this place will be swarming with Risens."

A long claw emerged from his knuckles; the sharp talon piercing the emergency glass panel triggering the fire alarm.

The quintet ran, following the lead of their head tracker as he took them closer to a massive heap of rubble and settling dust.

Here, the acrid metallic scent of Risen was overwhelming. Clay kept his eyes focused, trying to see through the dust. The destruction was akin to an asteroid crash; rings of debris forming around...

The tomb was empty.

"Very powerful Risen stood here mere seconds ago," whispered Jean-Pierre as he circled the tomb, studying the track marks and heat signatures. One thing in particular confused him. Where the second tomb lay, there was only a shadow of its existence - a rectangular mark on the ground that was not covered by debris. And yet there was no indication that it was removed. No trail marks or wheel marks. Even if a Risen had lifted it, surely there would have been footprints? It didn't make sense. Tombs don't just fly off or disappear.

"I recognise one of the scents," said Clay. "Jamie... that son-of-a-bitch."

Jean-Pierre stopped his inspection and looked up with much curiosity. He could barely differentiate one scent from the other. "How can you be so sure? There are too many scents co-mingling here to be certain."

Clay didn't bother to reply; his focus solely on the heat signatures dampening the soil. He needed to remember these scents - each and every one of them.

One of the Risens must have taken her - but for what purpose?

As he moved closer to the tomb, his senses went into hyper alert. Blood - not Risen, nor Light Walker... and neither human.

"JP, look here," he instructed, pointing his finger to door of the tomb. The box itself had split open in the middle like an open cabinet, but at each side of the door held half a circle stained with blood.

Jean-Pierre moved close, sniffing at the blood before taking a swab from his pocket to take a sample.

"Whoever opened this tomb is an abomination." The tremble in his voice did not go unnoticed by his team. "I must return to Notre-Dame immediately. What we seek, is no longer here."

***

Alderic could feel her heart beating profusely. Was she afraid? Or was it adrenaline?

He could still recall the scent of strawberries in her hair, the freckles dotting her cheeks and those jade buttons-eyes that looked at him with such guile and trust of a daughter for her father.

***

Two days later...

Yuli emerged from the shadow just as Jean-Pierre stepped into the grand cathedral of the Notre Dame.

"I want answers."

"Ask away then." Yuli leaned lazily against a limestone pillar.

"Who opened the tomb?"

"I don't know."

Jean-Pierre regarding the double-spy Risen carefully. Yuli had answered a little too quickly, raising an alarm in his head.

"Fine. Then tell me about this awakened Risen - and don't you dare hold out on me."

Yuli looked mutinous. "Or what?"

"You desire power and knowledge. I know what is inside the other tomb."