War of the supernaturals II (IC Thread)

Episode 1: Uprising



Deep, deep inside an unknown forest, stood a mansion in a large clearing. The house was clearly over three hundred years and yet it still looked spectacular. Although when you have unlimited funds, an eternity and magic... anything is possible.
Centuries ago, the building was a sort of vacation center for the Snow family. Whenever the master vampire wanted some peace and quiet, a break from the affairs of his empire, he'll disappear there with his mate, the Grand witch Mary Litrangr, it was a hiding place for all supernatural creatures, a training ground for the inexperienced and a home for the hunted.
The Mansion is located in the heart of the Amazon jungle... its premises is covered with a magical protection wall. The mansion stands on a five hectares field, a dry oak tree stands at the middle of the field and 146 metres away from the mansion. The Oak tree was an Exinx door, linking two parts together... this particular one led to an alley downtown New York.
On the field, parked in order of favourites were Lyden's collection of cars.
An Aston-Martin V12 Vanquish, a Suzuki Mladin Limited Edition GSX-R1000, a black Ford Mustang Mach 1 and his most prized possession... the black Hummer. Like all Vampires, Lyden loves art.
Inside, the mansion could boast of a total 27 rooms, three large living rooms, a spacious library, two study rooms, a large basement under, and a large training hall.
The walls of the passages and corridors are lined with intricate paintings, while the floor is covered with carpet from India. Purchased during his time in the Caribbean. His chandeliers still hung magnificently from the ceiling, illuminating the mansion.
Not all tales about Vampires are true, they didn't burst to flame by just being in the sun. They are only extra sensitive to its light.
And unlike the tales, he didn't sleep in coffins and wake only at night. He has a house and and he hardly sleeps. He had to force his body to adopt the shutdown schedule at night, he was doing it for her... left for him alone, he'd go months without it
***
***
Lyden descended the last three steps into the narrow passage and then made a right turn into the large living room. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirts. He had pulled only the top of his lightly curly hair back, leaving the rest to fall down his back. His tucked in t-shirts was dark blue and hinged to his frame tightly. His belt, black leather with a silver buckle fit nicely with the light denim jeans. He was a very attractive man, even when he wasn't trying.
Even before entering, they had turned head towards his direction, the power that he exuded was impossible not to notice.
"We have a problem... one seemingly bigger than Mark." Lyden announced approaching the group. His massive 6'4 frame coupled with his eyes made him intimidating sometimes. They were ice blue. He'd look at you and you'd swear he was looking into your soul.
His skin glowed with a translucent silver in the moonlight coming from the open windows seeing as how full moon was in three days.
"Maximum abominatio, also known as the Grand abomination is the most dangerous and powerful rituals known to witches. It has been attempted many times over the centuries, yet only the witches of Salem in 1692 were ever 90% percent close to succession. Maximum abominatio is a very complicated ritual, for it to work it needs the blood of thirteen innocents, six males, six females and one male-female... all killed in the space of 90 days. With the last day being Full Sturgeon moon."

Lyden turned towards the bar on the far right of the room, he grabbed a bottle of Martini and poured himself a cup. In one gulp he down the content and started to refill. This time he drank slowly, savoring the taste of the alcohol. He naturally loved Martini.

Jeremy leaned on the couch, elbow supporting his weight. His eyes sparkled with intelligence as he spoke. "On completion of the rite, the devil will come to earth." As much as he wanted to he couldn't hide the excitement in his voice. "We of course know a devil is nothing but a powerful demon. Which makes me wonder how strong it'll be on a scale of 1-10. I don't want to take chances finding out." Jeremy rounded the reached down into the couch and picked his IPad. At first when he arrived at the mansion, he chastised the master vampire for siting a base in a jungle where there was zero access to network. He couldn't have been more wrong. In seconds he was connected to the world and quickly brought up an image. "Arabelle had me check up for potential witch covens that might have knowledge of the ancient ritual. I came up with two. All of them over a century, somehow the spell that caged our powers didn't work on this two cult."
He turned the iPad to the others so they will see the screen.
A man had posted on a social website, an image of Full Sturgeon moon. Under he had written; 3 more days... one Lamb left to cross and then your end will come.
"I traced the guy profile, he's from Germany and coincidentally one of the two ancient covens is sited in Germany."
Lyden who was leaning on the bar, a glass in hand added... "and there's nothing like such." On sensing Arabelle descend down the stairs, he gulped down the remaining of the Martini and straightened up... "Our man had not included an address in his profile so I had Arabelle do a location spell using his image as catalyst."

Amir was barefoot and shirtless, clad only in a pair of leather pants he'd managed to salvage from the trip to New York, that and what was certain to become a scar on his forehead but now was just an angry pink line that insisted on peaking out from behind his thick black tresses.

In his hand he already had a glass of wine but he wasn't drinking it so much as enjoying it the smell of it and carrying it around. Amir was as likely as not to leave it untouched and occasionally teased he'd be just as well with Kool Ade or anything else of the appropriate rich color.

"A bigger problem than Mark?" Amir repeated back. He wasn't really certain what that meant. In the short period of time he'd been with Melea, Arrabelle and Lyndon he'd learned that they already had bigger problems than Mark. There were the Exemplar Mortis, essentially Nazis only they were fixated on the Supernatural instead of Jews. Then there were the Lords who were technically after Mark but thought Mark was one of them because of some confusing stuff that Melea had stopped trying to explain.

"Wait. The Devil is real? Like, actually the a devil? And Allah?" Amir asked. He hadn't given his somewhat lapsed faith much thought in years but now here was a man who had shown him that magic was real and claimed to be older than the country telling him that the adversary was a flesh and blood being.

Tyson was restless and wanted to venture out. He took a young woman with him to a late show in Manhattan. There he watched as the pretentious one per-centers mock the everyday person, and whine about the troubles of where to spend their vacations. It was these people that angered Tyson lately Though very rich in his own right he hated how money made idiots powerful. He decided during the intermission to have a little fun, first making a snobbish woman spill a glass of red wine on her husbands white shirt. Then he caused a old rich coot to fall and pull the dress right off of the closest bystander a younger woman wearing a dress with no shoulder straps. The dress came down and soon there was a fist fight in the lounge.

Soon he tired of the game and opted to leave. He went for a walk in central park hoping a foolish mugger would try something. After killing one such man and leaving his lifeless corpse lying there, he decided to head home. He had an odd feeling about this night, there was something in the air, he was not alone though he heard and saw nothing, even with his heightened senses and felt it better to be indoors in the safety of his fortress.

There he would try and figure out what was troubling him. He had been reading strange reports and knew with those reports and he getting his power, he knew they were linked some how and he would find out how.

KC

"Get out." Bahiya Cherkas pushed her foot against the naked man sleeping next to her. He rolled over and grumbled.

"Don't test my patience. I have a busy day ahead." She flung off the covers and swung her legs out of the bed. She padded to the en-suite bathroom and stood naked in the doorway with one hand on her hip. Her thick dark hair spilled over her shoulders in a mess of loose waves.

The man in the bed got up and took a few steps towards her licking his lips.

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm taking a shower. I want you gone by the time I'm finished. If I want you again tonight, I'll call." She turned, went into the bathroom and closed the door. She turned the latch with finality.


Breakfast was waiting for Bahiya when she emerged from the bathroom. She slipped on a robe then ate while she listened to voicemails and checked her emails at the laptop on her desk. There was another murder that needed looking into and a few leads into some disappearances.

She made a few calls before getting dressed. Something was brewing, she could feel it.

Arabelle came down the stairs in a sweep of gauzy skirts. She held a map in her hands. "I've found him."

She went to Lyden and gave him a kiss before placing the map on the bar. "Here. Outside of Munich. I had to keep narrowing things down. Time consuming. I'm sorry. But now I am sure."

She leaned against him. She had to touch him frequently. It was as if her body remembered what her mind could not, her past life--past lives with him. His nearness reassured her, made her feel safe and whole.

Melea shifted on the sofa, she was still recovering from the venom Mark had pumped into her body. Yet again they were discussing more trouble, when would they ever get the chance to just chill and learn more about their abilities. She knew Amir was still worried about the control he had over his, Jeremy however seemed to just take all his in his stride. Standing she strode over to the bar, grabbed the vodka and poured herself a large shot added lemonade and a slice of lime. Turning she looked at Lyden and Arabelle, 'What exactly are you trying to say? The message said "one lamb left to cross" what does that mean? That he's almost done and has one last person to kill? Exactly how much time is left between now and a Sturgeon Moon?'

"One Lamb left...it means whoever this person or persons are, they have gotten twelve innocents already. I know full Sturgeon moon is on the 18th, which is three days from now." Lyden wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer Into him.
"I know there must be a specific class of people that is required for the ritual, for surely if it's just any innocent, they would've succeeded centuries ago. I just don't know which class."
Lyden straightened back up. He placed a hand on her shoulder while his thumb slowly played with her long red hair. His other hand rested on hers which held the
map. There, he gently trace his fingers over hers. His hands were cold but shot a tingling feeling down her body with each movement. It was like he was lightning a fire inside of her. Any where he touched tingled and burned for him. Lyden ran his hand through her hair and settled at the back of her neck. "And what I still can't understand is what the scroll meant by the last sacrifice must be a male female"
Knowing fully well the effect she had on him and he her, Lyden straightened himself and turned to Melea, "I know you've gone through a lot, all of you have, and yes the hard times seem to supersede the better ones, yet I want you to realize that your power was giving to you for a purpose, presumably for a moment such as this."

posted same post twice

Araabelle took a sharp intake of breath when Lyden pulled her closer. His nearness was like a drug to her. She let out her breath and said, "People in different times and locations have named the moons. The full moons each have different names and varied depending on the culture. The Algonquins call the full moon in August the Sturgeon Moon. I am surprised that they would chose this time of year for their ritual--one would think Samhain or the Harvest Moon would be more appropriate. But perhaps they are impatient and chose the first harvest instead." She shrugged. "Obviously, they think their spell will work this time."

She tilted her head up at Lyden without moving away from him. "Do we know who their previous victims have been from police reports? That may give us a clue." She shivered a little at his touch wanting nothing more than to grab his hand and pull him to their bedchamber, but there were more important matters to attend to. She was able to focus more on what he was saying once he stood away from her.

"A male-female...A transsexual? A transvestite? In many cultures, those who travel the third way have been considered sacred and full of divine power."

Director James Blank

"And connect me to Cherkas." The man said in a deep baritone voice. James Blank, a man in his mid fifties with salt and pepper crew cut, well trimmed brown beard, his physique was chiselled like a Greek sculpture. A testament to show his integrated workout schedule really paid out. James was now a major with a high level clearance of 8. The highest was 10. Back in the days he'd be termed a Paladin. Now due to civilization, major was used. Every level 8 had a chance to be a Director of a Country's EM Organization. Commonly pronounced as DC. In each state, headquaters were sited and a commander was instilled to run the affairs. Bahiya Cherkas was such a commander.
The screen blimped several times before displaying the insignia of the Organization. Two flame swords meeting together on the head of a beast.
James waited patiently for Cherkas who was at the other end to put in her passcode.
As he waited, his mind drifted to the one night they spent together when he was in NY. He was on a routine visit, they have kicked it up immediately they saw each other. Agreeing on almost every ground, ideas matching and twisting together in a nice web of simplicity... they looked natural. A night before his final day, they had dropped everything in exchange for well built and deserved release.
Unfortunately, the organization doesn't permit it's soldiers to have relationships. Sex was an okay. But feelings like Love was greatly frowned at. They had agreed to kill the growing bud before it produces flowers.
The insignia disappeared and Cherkas came up. Now staring into her face, James agreed within himself that sending her a replacement was a good idea.
"Hello Bahiya, how are you doing?"

Ahnah does New York

It'd taken her a month to make the trip from the deep swamps of Louisiana, across five rivers, two small lakes, and many highways. The highways were the worse, like living streams of water ravenous with terrible monsters eager to kill you not because they were hungry but for no other reason than you were in their way. It reminded Ahnah how casual humanity was in their cruelty. A wolf tore out the throats and devoured the hearts of their enemies and had no pity when hunting down weak prey, but it was always for a reason. Protecting the pack's land or feeding the young were reasons for killing. Humans did it without even realizing they were, and when they did it they shrugged off the action as inconsequential, an accident, a mistake.

Ahnah had tried practicing taking on the form of a human. Her body was long and gangly, her fingers worked and her mouth could make human sounds. Still the only success she'd had was enticing men to mount her, which they did with only the smallest amounts of coaxing. It was practice in the ways of humanity, but it was not the same. She needed to learn more, to grow, to better serve her King.

And always the scent on the wind urged her north and east, ever onward until she found herself crossing one final bridge in the depths of midnight. This den of humanity was immense. It pressed on her with the weight of their smells and sounds and sights. It was painful and she was hungry. As a general rule, wolves didn't eat other wolves, and now that she was also human, she felt more of the same taboo over eating human flesh. It wasn't to say if she got hungry enough that she wouldn't, survival was paramount.

She found herself in luck when she caught the scent of dog. The mongrels of the canine world; they were little better than a rat. They'd given up all claim to the moon and the wind long ago for a meager handout of comfort and support. Pathetic. She had no scruples tracking the pack of dogs to an abandoned building. She loped into the heart of the pack, all fang and claw. They weren't ready for true ferocity. She pinned the alpha of their pack down with her maw, then tore his throat and ate his heart. As she feasted upon his body the other dogs circled but did not attack. They watched and waited, but no challengers came forth. And so with a little reluctance, Ahnah took over as leader of their pack.

She still had no idea why the wind had lured her to this city. She didn't even understand why the humans called it "New York." But she was here and spending her nights as a wolf and her days trying to look more human. In the poor ghettos of the city, she strange oddness didn't seem to cause as much fear and shock as it had in the smaller gathering places of the humans along her journey to this New York. Day by day she tweaked her seeming and by night she ran through the dream world with her new pack. Sometimes she sought out her King, but he had little advice for her. Her old pack was her old pack as was the way of things.

"Wait, Transsexual? like in she-males? Cool!" Jeremy shot out. He turned his gaze back to the IPad, "Don't worry Belle, locating the history files of the missing persons is no sweat. Just a few more seconds and voila..." his face suddenly turned sober, his smile disappeared like it had been sliced from his face.
"What the hell?"

Bahiya Cherkas

"Fine, James." She took in his handsome face then got right to business. "Do you have any information for me? There was an incident at a bar--an incubus or vampire we think. There was a murder that is a higher priority. But I really need to know what you think about the pattern of disappearances."

She took a sip of her coffee. "James, I think those disappearances are more than some vampire collecting people. I need to know who or where and when the next person will go missing so I can put a stop to this."

Arabelle

Arabelle rolled her eyes. "Jeremy, I'd almost think you were an incubus with that comment. What? What is it?"

"Everything is gone. There're no records of missing persons in the last 87 days anywhere on police records. Now that's strange because people get missing every day. Someone, somewhere always lose their way and the police are called. It can't be possible that around the globe, all 7 continents, none has gone missing for a whole 87 days." Jeremy just couldn't hide the excitement. Someone had tweaked the system, someone with knowledge of technology. Pocketing the IPad, Jeremy hurried off towards the basement, where the lab was sited. "I'm going to crack the files, I'll send the info to your phones once I'm through."

Director James Blank

"That's the purpose for this message Bahiya. The disappearances ain't just happening in your Jurisdiction, its going on everywhere. We've totaled the disappearances to twelve, and yes like you assumed, it's in patterns." He paused as he typed something on his keyboard... "I'm sending you an address, one of our agents, a historian teaching in Munich has full details. I know its against protocols for a commander to leave his/her zone, but this is a matter of top priority and the organization wants you incharge. You have level clearance 6 till this case is closed."
James started typing again and Bahiya's computer chimed as a file was received. "That's a video surveillance of the murder. Apparently the monster was a vampire not an incubus. Our satellite tracked him to his abode. We're guessing like all vampires he must belong to or incharge of a clan. You're advised to tread carefully."
James glanced at his watch, before continuing "We're sending you a lieutenant, an agent with clearance level 5. HQ has ordered he assist you in this case. You're to pick him up personally from the airport by 13:13 hours." A tiny smile split his features as he added. "You always sparkle after sex. Hope the young man was good?" Without waiting for a response he logged out.

The Central Park Murder / Tyson

Ahnah liked Central Park above all other places.

She'd come to explore the desolation. Those abandoned districts left to rot and fill with the abandoned creatures of the human world. Places were homeless humans and lost animals lingered, trying to hang on to some small territory that might sustain them. This city didn't sustain things naturally, but in the alleys and dumpster there was food to be found. It varied between fresh and rotten, but wolves and many animals had low standards and high tolerance when survival was at stake. While practicing her human seeming, walking the shadowed street corners and dark alleys, she interacted with the homeless and the deviants of society. She learned that some males liked to give her presents after mounting. This wasn't unaccustomed behavior for a male courting a female, but not so common that Ahnah had to get used to it. With these objects she found other people would give her things she wanted when she gave them those bits of wood and metal she'd been given. It was a strange thing to her that humans would value such above fresh meat. If someone tried to give her a stick for a large strip of cow, she'd knock the person senseless. And yet, the people in white with their cleaving weapons, reeking of fresh kills and vast hoardes of meat did just that. She also found that such men, who were usually fat and thus proof they were excellent providers, would give her fresh kill after mounting. Sometimes they even gave it when she offered to clean their bodies with her tongue, which was odd since amongst the pack mutual cleansing was just a way to deepen the packs bond.

The dogs she now commanded were learning how to hunt as a unit. She had her flankers, her beaters, her thrashers, and her killers. She found that the difference sizes and variations of the dogs were quite useful for different roles. The little brindle haired yappers which really did look like rats to her were great for beating and barking, flushing out quarry. A few icy eyed dogs, sleek and furry, did well for flanking. The larger breeds did thrashing quite well. Then there was the two dogs with fur so fine and short it might as well have been human flesh. These loved to kill.

It was becoming a game to slip into Central Park in the evenings. They couldn't go as a pack, that drew too much attention. Much like in the wild, she had to orchestrate the pack in careful deployments of ones and twos in the right trajectories and vectors. They were getting quite good at moving around without the humans taking notice. Some of the humans, they were called Pounders, tried to catch the stray animals of the city. These they drew and evaded like another game onto itself. Ahnah had only had to kill one or two of the Pounders that had managed to capture a member of her new pack. These bodies had been dragged back to the lair and will her pack had no trouble devouring the human flesh, Ahnah found herself hesitant. She did devour the hearts, as was the way of the Beast. To do otherwise would be disrespectful to the kill.

So it was that one night after being in the city for a few weeks that she came upon a man that was not a man. He smelled like ice and death. He killed another human without pause. Taking pleasure in the act of destroying life, instead of the need to feed or protect the pack. Ahnah had never known such monsters existed. Her King had told them stories in their dreams of all the nightmares he'd hunted, and vampires were one of the worst.

It was fortunate that the vampire did desire to kill behind that one human. When the vampire left, Ahnah's pack dragged the corpse into one of the dark, hidden places in the park and scavenged once more.

Tyson was greeted by Melanie when he got home. "Tyson where have you been! your date got home an hour ago!" She didn't hide that she was pissed he didn't ask her to go. The shemale was very jealous and very possessive with Tyson. "Who's blood is that on your collar?"

Tyson went and sat in his large poofy chair. "Mel give it a rest! I'm fine. As for the blood it's some punk idiot picked the wrong night to go for a walk in the park." He pulled her down on to his lap and kissed her deep biting her lip hard, blood trickled down his chin. Mel licked it up after. "How have you been feeling? I've been getting odd feelings tonight! I could have swore I was being watched in the park, but saw nothing. Also after I had a little fun at the show, my hairs were standing on end it's never been like that before when I push into an others mind. I want you to send out a couple of the mules, have them sniff around the park, something is going down and I want to know what it is! Then meet me in my chamber, I want to have a little fun!" he cupped her large tits and felt between her legs as he said it. Tyson was a sexual being and if it felt good he did it. Mel was an odd best of both worlds, as Tyson didn't generally go for guys though he has had fun in the past with them. The house was dark candles burned and music played, there were a dozen people hanging out in the large living room some he turned others were hang a rounds hoping to be turned next. Though a Vampires keep really, guests were safe from harm there. As long as you were invited no harm would befall you at his estate. When the groupies would leave Tyson would twist their weak minds to stay loyal to the death for him. No discussing what they did or saw at the house. It kept his mansion safe for the outside world, at least for now.

Mel did as she was told sending out two young men to check out the park where Tyson had killed the young man! They were disposable but capable, they weren't vampires but longed to be changed. Tyson only changed men that proved loyalty to him.

Then knowing what was in store for her with her master she went and cleaned from head to toe and changed into a sexy little number for him. She loved being a vampire and she loved being Tyson's property and pet! She would die for him and kill for him all he need do is say the words.

Tyson's blood was surging through his veins and he wanted even more, he went to his cellar where anyone else kept a wine stock, there he had a bunch of pillows and torture devices set up and he kept three young women as cattle. They had their minds warped and bent to his will and served all the Vampires in the house without question, when they needed feeding, Though only Mel partook in feeding on them with Tyson, those nights were often fun and wild!

No killing his property was Tyson's only rule. breaking a rule would mean death. After feeding a little he felt like a overcharged battery, now he was going to fuck Mel till the new moon came out. He had no idea that his arrogance was going to bring trouble to the shadows.

KC

Arabelle

"How stupid of whoever to wipe all the records. That is bound to make many people suspicious, not just us. Local police, the FBI, Interpol, they would all be suspicious. They would only be so crude if they were very close to finishing whatever it is they plan. Perhaps I should try scrying and see what more I can learn." Arabelle looked at Lyden.

Bahiya Cherkas, Her Brownstone NYC

"Thirteen Thirteen, right." She made a note." But let me make sure I'm understanding this correctly. I'm to go to Munich and take this new lieutentant with me? Or is he to stay behind and run things in my absence? How soon do I need to be in Munich? I have a friend with a jet--I or we could leave as soon as tonight. I just need to make a call."

She opened her moth to respond to James' last statement, but the screen only showed the login page. She smirked and shook her head. James knew her all too well. She missed him. She felt her nipples go taut at the memory of him.

She sighed and looked at her watch. She made a call to have her car ready in plenty of time for her to get to the airport. The traffic would be a bitch. She checked her email and opened the one from James. She made another call to give the address of the vampire killer and send out her slayers.

"Trust me love, they're not stupid." Making records disappear was one specialty of the Examplar Mortis. They usually leave nothing behind, expertly they cover their backs, not even a brow will be raised.
Lyden collected the map and took a quick glance at the location. One good thing about a location spell, once the target moves, the red dot on the map follows.
He rolled back up the map then turned to Amir and Melea.
"Amir, Melea, Jeremy's radar picked up a signature last night, one belonging to a super... possibly a werewolf or chimera. I don't know how far the EM's ability to track down our kind has gone, I won't be taking chances by letting he or she remain there till we come back from Munich."
Lyden paused to glance at the chiming clock. 5.00 am it announced.
"Our guy is not yet on the move, but we never can tell when he'll be." Lyden presented the situation before them and stepped back a bit, arms folded across his chest. He could have just simply instructed them to go for the super, but Lyden being Lyden will never impose his wishes on those he care about.

Amir stretched slowly finishing his drink and looking around as he soaked in all the information that had been spoken. "I guess we can do that." He said after a few moments. The truth was a lot of thoughts were running around his mind. Erasing all the disapperances for 87 days didn't seem messy to him so much as crude. It's hard to tell what your looking for when someone decides to burn the entire fucking record book.

He was more concerned about this new super or monster or whatever. The others didn't seem to find the term monster flattering. Either way the important part right now was that he'd only been in this life for a short period of time and so far the good monsters were nice, the bad humans had tried to capture him but gently. Clearly if they'd wanted to they could have shot him. Then you had Mark and he'd been told about some people called the Lords and also a demon body jumping thingy. Either way not being human didn't make them a brother in arms or anything.

He wasn't of course going to argue with Lynden about it, not until he had a safe place to stay away from here at the soonest.

"If you get to her before the Organization, bring her to the manor downtown. It's not too far from her location and will give you time to learn more about her before bringing her here. Of course that's if she agrees to follow you. I and Arabelle will head to Germany, If we're successful we'll meet you guys in the manor. If things get rough, we'll call for backup. Hopefully it won't be the latter."
He brought out a key from his pocket and threw it to Amir, "That's my black Ford Mustang. If you scratch her, I'll break your bone. Both of your bones." He warned in a stern voice.
"Jeremy will upload the location to your GPS, so if you want to grab a quick breakfast, shower..." He trailed off as he walked out of the living room,
On reaching their bedroom, Lyden went for his wardrobe, he pulled out his black duster, black shirt, black leather pants and black belt to complete the ensemble. Quite the cliche but when you look good in one color, why not stick with it? He threw all on the king sized bed then started to work on his long black hair.
Even before she entered the room he could pick up her sweet fragrance, one that was like an aphrodisiac to the vampire. He had his back to the door, his eyes focused on the mirror. Yes vampires do have reflection. He pulled his hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.
"Munich? It seems you've improved greatly. Tracking someone at such a distance is no small feat." He commented, pride clearly glittering in his tone.

Kenneth Langston

This couldn't wait another few hours? The monsters of the world have been with us since the beginning and even after The Awakening they haven't set the world on fire. Kennth Langston was very nearly thinking aloud as he stood in the airport lobby.

He didn't mind that he stood out with his shades and fedora. He was a six foot three bald black man in Munich. Being low key wasn't a realistic option for him so instead he'd opted for highly visible. Additionally the more eyes on him the less likely someone was to sneak up on him and if they did the chances of their being video of it greatly increased. So the choice of a cerulean blue suit wasn't a mistake.

What was a mistake was the way he was drumming his fingers over the ceramic firearm tucked beneath his arm. He wasn't even nervous, he was simply annoyed. Above everything else Kenneth prided himself on punctuality and expected similar traits from his co-workers. It was nobody's fault but God that a particularly violent storm had caused some confusion forcing the flight to circle for twenty minutes. It just meant that his contact was thirteen minutes late and so far neither the doors had opened nor had the luggage carousel begun to spin.

Really. We have company cars and taxis. Besides she'll likely want to shower or get a bite to eat. God knows that I cannot function properly right after getting off a plane.

Kenneth willed himself to keep from strumming his fingers. Even in his custom tailored suit if he called enough attention to it someone would notice that he was armed. It would be bad enough to be caught in an American airport with a firearm, but in Germany? Unacceptable.

So he promptly switched to an unconscious tightening of his jaw.

This could easily have been avoided by simply not having him wait at the airport for her. He'd have no problem pointing out she was late if she was driving or even riding a taxi. . .

If he'd had a few more minutes to be annoyed he might have gone and grabbed something to eat but behind him the carousel whirred to life and in front of him the door opened and passengers began pouring out. He had a description of the woman he was looking for but he really expected her to spot six feet of expertly crafted chocolate hued man.

If she didn't he might have to 'accidentally' accept one of the dozens or so women who insisted that they'd loved him in the Avengers, American Idol or the NBA Finals.

The Central Park Murder / Tyson's Mules & Amir?

It took about an hour of gorging themselves on the poor murdered mugger before the pack was done and the evidence hidden. Ahnah had learned that leaving the remains of humans around roused all manner of them to life. They seemed to have no problem running over, stabbing, shooting, impaling, tearing, rending, and a host of other verbs she'd learned. However, as soon as it looked like one of theirs was hurt by another animal, well then they went to war. She'd watched whole neighborhoods exterminating cat and dog after one human got bit. A few of the choice bones were kept, and the different dogs took back this nights entertainment in their mouths. It was dangerous to run around with a human's femur or rib, but her pack was fast and bones were common enough.

Because dogs didn't do a great job of filling in holes that they'd dug, Ahnah took her human seeming to push the dirt back over the remains of the human. There wasn't much left, just some clothing and bones. Dirt was colder and wetter with her human hands. The paws of the Beast were insulated and armored. There wasn't as much sensitivity or weakness with the Beast, but it was with these long slender digits that the humans had raped the world. It was amazing to her that such weak things could unleash so much destruction.

She patted the mound of dirt back down to level with the surrounding grass. The area was a secluded copse of trees and bushes. She knelt and unleashed her urine upon the area, marking the spot so the pack didn't disturb it in the future. It didn't occur to her that other monsters and nightmares might be able to track her with that same scent. Such higher order considerations were still new to her. The cognition of a Beast was more straightforward and immediate. Besides, what need had a wolf to worry about the law or retribution? They were at the apex.

She veered back into her Beast, the giant black wolf that used to be all of her but was now only a piece of her. She raised her head to the gleaming moon overhead and let out a loud howl. The pack had been slow to worship the moon, but they all recognized the necessity of it now. Or if they didn't, they followed as their alpha dictated.

With her sermon over, Ahnah gave the orders for the pack to disperse and regroup at their lair, one of the many abandoned tenements in the ghetto of the city.