Dedicated to my husband, without whom Max would never have been given life. Like Max is to Eira, you are my soulmate. It is because of you I can create a love story.
Arch 1
Chapter 1
Thunder growled menacingly overhead, and cracks of lightning kept illuminating the dense bellies of the slate-and-black clouds. The downpour was very literally torrential. A Nor'easter had hit the East Coast of the U.S., and seemed hellbent to drown the entire eastern seaboard before it was through.
And yet a figure darted through the rain, his jacket providing a not-so-effective umbrella. He had a satchel slung across his body, and he was suddenly very happy he had plastic wrapped his lunch, which was in his bag, because he figured he was probably accumulating a small lake in the bottom of it.
He burst through the door of the building farthest from any other on campus, because, of course, he had been on the complete other side of it and had had to run like an idiot because he'd been summoned.
He took his jacket from over his head and wrung it out into a nearby plant.
"Hope you're not gonna be overwatered now." he murmured to the plant, which he thought was an immature ficus (though he didn't really know; botany wasn't exactly his specialty), as he shook the water off the rest of him.
He was tall, but on the thinner, leaner side, though he was not without muscle and some definition. He had deep, kind, brown eyes-with black eyelashes around them that were rather long and thick-and full lips that were quick to smile. His skin had a kind of Mediterranean tone to it, and his shaggy hair was black and wavy, and currently a little more unruly than usual due to the rain. It was at least warm in the Claron building. He always thought it was a little pompous to have a building named after a professor that the professor himself worked in, but, to each his own. He continued on his way until he came to a door with gold letters etched into it that read:
DONOVAN CLARON
Head of Department
Archaeology
He rapped his knuckles against the polished, dark cherry oak of the door.
"Doctor Claron? It's Max. You wanted to see me?"
"Come in, Yearwood. How many times have I told you, you are not a student anymore, so you can just call me Donovan? I'll start calling you Maxwell just to annoy you if you keep it up."
Max rolled his eyes, shook his head, and opened the door, but he was smiling. It was true, he had graduated at the top of his class last year, and had immediately started working as an intern-a paid intern-for Claron, and also for the department head of Paleontology, Doctor Hayes Barlowe.
Claron looked up from his desk that matched the door with a grin on his face. He had intense gray eyes and a shock of near-white blond hair.
"You have summoned me, General?" Max asked, snapping into a salute.
"At ease, Yearwood." he said, standing up and grabbing a file off his desk, along with his tablet. "I've something to show you. This is going to be monumentous, and I want you in on it, my boy! We'll be drowning in more money than we'll know what to do with. There's so much genetic research that can be done…I didn't think it was possible for something like this to exist. We have to make sure the bloody witches don't get their hands on her. You know how they are, abomination this, but the balance that." he said, rolling his eyes. He lead Max to a spacious elevator that went down to the basement, that was only for his use, and his invited guests. He punched in a code on the keypad in front of it, the light on it changing from red to green, the doors opened, and they stepped inside.
"Uh…her, sir?"
"Ok, I give up. You're never going to call me by my actual name." he sighed. "And yes, her. I must warn you, Max…this will probably not be palatable to you, but you must think of all of the benefits research on her will have."
"Did she…volunteer?"
"Oh, she barely has a mind to think with, son. I doubt she even feels pain. You're what…23 now, Yearwood?"
"Uh…yes-yes, sir."
"It'll be great that you'll be able to retire so early, and without worry." he said wistfully.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened again. Max was more confused than ever. There were people running everywhere, all of them Claron's underlings, and all of them inhuman. Though Max quickly gathered that he and Claron were the only werewolves involved. He found it strange, because the extended Thorn Grove pack, like any other, was close-knit, yet he somehow knew none of the other pack members knew about this. That made him uneasy. Something was going on that he had purposefully kept from the rest of the pack? That didn't track.
"Follow me, Max." Claron said, and Max did, suddenly wondering if he even wanted to know about…whatever it was going on.
Max had always hated the atmosphere down in the basement. It was all spartan and white walls and flickering fluorescent lights, and it always had a funky smell that Max couldn't place, and maybe he didn't want to, because it made him sick. One of the drawbacks of having enhanced senses, even in human form.
Just as they were about to get to the door, one of the assistants ran up with her chest heaving and her blue-green eyes huge and wild.
"What's happened, Gretchen?" Claron asked.
"Another casualty, sir. Brendon got too close. She pulled him completely through the bars. He was torn to pieces."
"Fool boy! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD HIM NOT TO GET TOO CLOSE?! Always had to push his luck, always!" he snarled, slamming the side of his fist into the wall.
"Whatever we could gather of his remains…we put a sheet over them. We thought you would like to pay your respects, you know…before we bury him what's left of him."
"Right, right. Thank you, Gretchen. Go home for now. I'll call you when it comes time for the burial."
"Yes, sir." she said, turning and going for the elevator that she, apparently, had the code for. But before she left, she looked over her shoulder, her wavy red hair framing her pretty face. "Bye, Max."
"Uh, yeah. Later."
Someone else has to have the code, I guess. Max thought. There'd be no way to get everyone up and down if Claron was the only one that had it.
Max felt a little miffed that, despite his loyalty, she had earned the right to the elevator code, and that he was brought into this after everyone else involved.
It has to be something he thinks I'll have objection to. That's why he brought me in so late, after everything was already in motion.
Claron, of course, was a genius anyone would be happy to fall behind…well, except Max. Most of the time he went along with him-Claron was a pack member in higher standing, after all-just like everyone else, but there had been times Max had disagreed either with what he was doing entirely, or at least his methods, and he didn't try to hide it.
"Come on, Max." Claron said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "This is going to be the start of everything."
Inside the room, which was kept rather darker than the rest of the building, was massive, and cameras bristled from every corner, and about every foot in between, like Claron didn't want to miss a thing whatever it was did. Several prods and catch poles and strings of heavy chain hung on the walls, along with what appeared to be a sharp but weathered and stained sword. There were tables with all sorts of tools and computers all along the walls. There was a bundle of what appeared to be wild, blue-black hair next to a beaker filled with some kind of acid he assumed some of the hair had been dissolved in, and a vial labeled "VENOM". It appeared quite a few vials of blood were in separate testing apparatuses. Notebooks and clipboards and tablets, all packed full of notes and diagrams and equations, lay strewn about at different stations. It was apparent Claron had poached a few students from the biology program, and likely several others.
But that was not what one would have noticed upon arrival in the room. What one would notice was the cage in the middle of the room that had reinforced steel bars, and was bolted to the floor as if in desperation to keep it steady, and in one place. It looked like…well, for all intents and purposes, a cage built for some kind of wild animal. There was a wooden box in the right back corner of the cage, with holes in each of the sides touching the bars, and a wooden platform along the left side. If this "she" was an animal, didn't she need enrichment? Whatever she was obviously was intelligent enough to not wreck the shelter she'd been given.
"Parsons, Delgado." Claron said in a demanding voice. "Coax our subject out, will you?"
Two of the students grabbed prods off of the walls and cautiously approached the cage. Quickly, they stuck the prods through the holes in the box, and a mighty shriek sounded from inside of it. Max had to do a double take at what bolted out of it, slamming her shoulder into the cage on the far side, then jumping on and shaking the bars, roaring defiance.
"She" was a girl. An actual girl, wearing rags that only barely covered her, not an animal, like Max had been expecting. She looked to be no more than fifteen, but that could have been due to her height, which was no more than five feet, and her bird-boned, whip-thin build. Her small body was riddled with scars, and her limbs, though she was so small, were long and spindly in proportion to the rest of her, and it was apparent that the little height she did have was all in her legs. The hair on the table that was being tested was obviously hers, but he hadn't expected the sheer length of it, as it curled down past her butt. Her pale skin was freckled, specifically across the cheeks and nose of her small, heart-shaped face. Her brows were ebony, set and decisive over eyes that were red with anger, and fringed with ridiculous eyelashes that were thick, long, and double rowed. She had fangs that had grown from her upper canines (which, in combination with the red eyes, denoted that she was a vampire; werewolf fangs protruded from both the top and bottom canines, and were a bit longer than vampire fangs), but they seemed…smaller than what you'd expect from a vampire.
"Doctor Claron…what…? I don't-" Max stammered.
It was clear why Claron had kept this from him up until now. This was just…inhumane.
"Listen closely, boy. Tell me what you hear coming from her." Claron said.
Max took a breath, closed his eyes, and listened. Werewolf hearing wasn't as keen as vampire hearing, but it was comparable, and still many, many times greater than that of a human's, just like all their other senses, whether in wolf form or otherwise. But he-he heard it, he just couldn't believe it. She had a heartbeat, an heartbeat that pumped warm blood throughout her body, just like a human would.
"A…heartbeat? How is that possible?"
"From the genetic material we gathered, we've determined she's partially human. She has the markers of a Hunter, but also of a vampire. She's also a few thousand years old. Roughly three to three and a half thousand. She also seems to prefer a darker atmosphere." he said, gesturing to the dimness of the room.
"So…she's pretty close…to when the vampire race originated. Give or take five hundred to one thousand years. But how is she part Hunter? What Hunter would procreate with a vampire? They hate us all."
"I don't know the answer to that. I found her when I went on my expedition to South America. I was following leads on an El Diablo that appeared out of the Amazon rainforest to wreak havoc upon villagers. I had a feeling it wasn't going to be just hysteria. And it wasn't. Luckily enough I had come prepared and had plenty of verbena darts on hand. We've figured out that her current state is due to the fact that the two sides of her don't play well, and are constantly at war. It broke her mind. And she's warm to an almost unprecedented amount. So, you can see why we didn't want word about her getting out. You may think we're being cruel, but could you imagine what the human government would do to her if they heard about her? They'd have her spliced open on a lab table in no time. And the thing is, it would scar her-she scars like a human, but still heals like a vampire, though it takes a bit longer-but she wouldn't die. They could do it over and over again to satisfy whatever scientific exploits they could come up with."
Max had been right. Claron knew he wouldn't agree with what he was doing, but it was still the lesser of two evils. He couldn't tell anyone, lest the risk increase of her having a worse fate than the one she already had.
"We, however, believe she is capable of speech." Claron continued. "The problem being, none of us can get close enough to her to interact. As you can see." he said, nodding to the sheet in the corner that had conspicuous blood stains on it. Underneath were Brendon's remains. "That's where you come in."
Max stared at him in utter disbelief.
"So you're telling me you want me to volunteer to be emulsified?"
"I'm banking on the hope that you'll be the one she doesn't do that to."
"Why on earth would you think I could achieve what everyone else couldn't?"
"Because you haven't gotten samples from, shocked, or otherwise given her reason to dislike you. Plus, your countenance is rather more akin to a golden retriever than a wolf. You have a calming presence that I hope will calm her in turn. And I'm not saying to just stroll right up to the cage from the start. Stay out of arm's reach and just try to get through to her. Then, as time passes, and you feel comfortable with it, you may move closer. But that's only if there's progress. So, what do you say, Max?"
"I…alright. I'll do it." he said with a resigned sigh. Even if he couldn't get her out, maybe a little interaction would make her feel at least, maybe, not so lonely? "What have you been calling her?"
"Splendid! And we've just been calling her S. 3245." She's been reduced to a number. And the "S." In front of it merely meant "Subject". "Go on then." Claron instructed. "Everyone else out and move to the observation room!"
The others took their leave, leaving only Max and the girl.
He cautiously took a couple steps forward, and those crimson eyes fell on him, a deep growl rumbling in her chest.
"I-I'm sorry. I don't want to scare you." Max said in a calm, muted voice. "My name is Max. I don't know what your name is, but I don't like the thought of just calling you a number. Do you have a name? Do you remember what it is? I'd much rather call you that."
She tilted her head and stalked back and forth along the front of the cage on all fours, her eyes never leaving him. At least she wasn't growling and hissing and spitting like she had been.
"You remind me a lot of a cat. What if I just call you Cat until we figure out your name, huh? Better than a number, right?" He moved a little closer, but that received an agitated hiss. He sat down immediately. "Ok. So this is close enough for now. See, I'm gonna stop right here. No closer. Not until you let me."
She hmphed, but didn't protest any more than that. Her eyes, though, flitted from him to the sword on the wall. It said something, at least, that she didn't feel the need to have her eyes on him at all times, which was more than anyone else had gotten.
"That yours? That your sword?" he asked pointing to it.
She gave a pitiful, high-pitched whine.
"Well, ya know, I could give that back to you, but you won't let me get any closer, will you? And I don't have "being made into mulch" on my itinerary for today." he said with a small chuckle.
She made a sound like she was trying to mimic his laughter, which made him smile.
"See, that's familiar, right? You had to have laughed before. Feels nice, doesn't it?"
There was a click and a buzz as an intercom came to life. It caused her to flinch, but she didn't hide. She didn't know what it meant, and she looked around curiously. Max saw definite wheels turning behind her eyes.
"Max," came Calron's voice over the intercom in a whisper. "There are cooked steaks in the fridge over by the door. We only have the microwave in there to heat them up with, but see if you can get her to eat one. We've only been able to get her to pick at things, but it's largely been left to rot. Just throw one in."
"Alright." Max replied, then the intercom clicked off. "Are you hungry?" he asked her.
He moved with slow, deliberate movements so as not to frighten her to get a steak. She seemed intrigued by the sounds that the microwave made, particularly the beeps when Max punched the time to heat the steaks up in, and when it was done. He didn't make it too hot, he hoped.
"I'm gonna throw this to you now, alright?"
He hated to have her eat it off the floor, but there wasn't much choice in the matter. As the steak slapped onto the floor inside the cage, she jumped back a few feet, but the smell was too much for her to run away from it. She edged up to it, then took it in her hands and got a good chunk out of it.
"Mmm…" she groaned in appreciation as she closed her eyes. When she opened her eyes, they weren't red anymore. They were a beautiful, deep violet.
"Oh, wow. What a beautiful eye color you have. I haven't seen anyone else with a color like that. You like the steak? I guess so. That's great. You're so thin. You need to eat."
It really was worrying, at least to him, that she was that thin. Yes, she was small, but she looked unhealthy. He had been mulling something over, a way, perhaps, to get closer to her.
"Good job, Max." came Claron's whispered voice again. "You can come out now."
"Alright. Wait for me outside. I've got an idea." he said, then turned his attentions back to Cat. "Ok. I have to go for now. But I promise I'll be back tomorrow. And maybe we can talk some more?"
She made a non-committal grunt as she continued to munch on the steak.
"Well, I'll take that as a yes."
He stood up slowly and made his way for the door, purposefully turning his back to her, showing a certain level of trust that she wouldn't attack him from behind. It's not something he would have done, had it not been for the cage, but he wanted to make a point he hoped she got.
Claron met Max outside the doors of the room, which were now closed for the night, and slapped him on the back with his palm.
"Excellent work, Yearwood!" he exclaimed. "You've made more progress in a half hour than we have in a month! What's your idea, son?"
"Well…I'm thinking maybe she may feel more comfortable around animals as opposed to people. I want to spend the day with her tomorrow so she gets more familiar with me. Tomorrow night's a full moon, so I'll turn. I want to let her see me shift. I think it may make her feel more comfortable."
"That's brilliant, my boy!" Claron enthused. "I'll keep everyone else completely out of the building tomorrow. Oh, hold on a second." he said, holding up one finger and typing something into his phone. Max's phone pinged. "You'll need that to get onto the elevator."
Under any normal circumstances, sitting in a room with no real goal and someone you couldn't talk to for hours and hours would have been horribly tedious. But Max found it perfectly intriguing. Everything she did captivated and amused him. It was so apparent that, under her wild appearance, she was human-well, figuratively speaking.
It was when the sun began to dip below the horizon that Max felt the familiar tingle up and down his spine. When a werewolf first transformed-which happened, unfortunately, at puberty, because why not make it harder?-it was a very painful experience, and they would have no human cognition whatsoever. With each successive shift, it became easier and easier, and the werewolf would have more and more control. It was easy for Max now. It had happened to him at around 13, so he'd had a solid decade to acclimate. He wouldn't have done it in front of her if it was still painful. All that would have done is frighten her.
He slipped off to one of the corners that had a small shower-you know, in case somebody spilled chemicals on themselves-and pulled the curtain over it as he changed out of his clothes.
He usually would have been far too shy to do this, but he stepped outside the curtain, naked. His cheeks went beat red, but she needed to see the wolf was him. He got on all fours and growled.
Though it didn't hurt him like he used to, it still sounded wholly horrific, with the grinding and snapping of bones. He may not have been the bulkiest of wolves, but he made up for that in ranginess. His fur was black from head to toe, the same color and texture as his human hair, as it was for all wolves, and his eyes faded from a vibrant, glowing yellow back to his normal dark chocolate. When a werewolf was excited or agitated, regardless of form, their eyes would glow a feral yellow. Vampires did much the same, except their eyes glowed red.
She stared at him for a long moment, then shifted as well, her scant clothing shredding as she did. Vampires could transform into certain animals-rats and mice, wolves, crows and ravens, bats, and cats, the wolf forms typically being larger than regular wolves, but not quite as big as werewolves in their wolf form. Her wolf form, however, wasn't much bigger than your average husky. She began to trot back and forth at the front of her cage, panting heavily with her tongue lulling out the side of her mouth, her eyes glowing red. He hoped that meant she was excited as opposed to angry. The hair/fur situation was the same in vampires as they were in werewolves.
Max padded a little closer, and dropped into a play bow, his tail wagging high in the air and tipped at her. She started to bounce up and down on her front legs, barking and whining at him, and then it was like she completely blipped out of existence, only to reappear on the platform, her paws prancing. She was the fastest thing he'd ever seen. He wanted her to get his scent, so, regardless of what form he was in, she'd, without a doubt, know it was him, but that would mean getting closer, which was a daunting proposition, to say the least. She didn't seem aggressive…and he should be fast enough to get away in wolf form…so long as she didn't change back to her human form and grab him. He braved the odds and came a little closer, gauging her reaction. She didn't seem particularly unfriendly, and he sensed not even a slight shift in her mood. Her tail began to wag.
It probably never occurred to her, but if she were to turn into literally any other form aside from her wolf one, she could get out. Apparently nobody thought she'd have the idea, or they would have made those bars smaller. Would have saved people from getting pulled through them, too.
His heart gave a traitorous leap at the thought of her being released. It would most likely have been a horrible idea…but the thought of her being out where he was, free with him was almost too much to bare.
What's wrong with you, Max? What are you thinking?
Still, he moved closer incrementally. He heard her heart gain speed with ever inch he stepped, just like his. He didn't even realize he had gotten so close, but there he was, right in front of her. They were facing each other, the only thing separating them was the bars. He pushed lowered his head and pushed his nose through so that it touched hers. It was like a jolt of pure electricity surged through them both.
Well…that's going to complicate things.