Arch 1
Chapter 2
Ok. So. He knew what he needed to do, it was just a matter of doing it. He wanted her out two weeks ago, a time in which almost no one aside from him had seen her, and she'd made great progress. However, progress didn't necessarily equate to him actually being able to handle her if she was free. She was still somewhere around 4,000 years old, give or take a few centuries, and he shuddered to think how strong that must make a vampire-or a hybrid. He had a hypothesis going that her own strength was probably unrealized, or that cage would be nothing but scrap metal, especially now that she'd been getting fed on the regular.
If only I could get her to talk to me… he thought for only the billionth time.
He was convinced she had to have…some form of human communication, buried somewhere in her mind. She had to have spoken to a human at some point, right? The capability was in there, somewhere, he just felt it. If she could talk to him, if he could make her understand, he could get her out, and they could run…though, there was still the matter where, exactly, to run to. He had an idea, but that meant getting Dr. Barlowe involved. Max trusted Barlowe in a way he didn't trust Claron, but what if…
"Hey, Kit." he greeted, sitting on the other side of the cage, as he had done for the past few weeks, with a bag of food. He often wondered how much of what he said actually sunk in. He had taken to calling her Kitten instead of Cat, which was ironic, because she could literally rip any one of them to shreds, but it seemed to suit her better. Maybe it's because she wasn't trying to pull his head off, and he'd formed an actual bond with her. He pulled a cheeseburger from the posh little café on campus out of the bag and handed it to her. "How about we try that today, huh?" he asked, sitting back and taking out his own.
She sniffed the burger cautiously, as she did with every new food item she was presented with, then took a bite.
"Mmm…" she muttered, then set upon the rest as a ravening wolf would.
She knew what "mmm" meant at least, but the thing was, he needed more than that if he was going to get her out. He leaned in close. Her eyes flicked up to him, and there was a hint of warning in them. She didn't quite trust him completely.
"Don't worry." Max said calmly. "I've never taken your food and I never will. Tell me, Kit, do you remember what my name is? Can you tell me my name?"
"Mmm," she murmured.
"Damn. I guess it didn't sink in."
"M-M-Max."
His jaw dropped open and he stared at her in astonishment.
"You did it! That's my name! Yes!"
She flinched back at his unexpected excitement for a moment, but didn't run for her box, at least. He couldn't blame her I'd she had, though. Her poor little body was cross-crossed with scars. He didn't want to imagine how she'd gotten them.
"I'm-I'm sorry. You just did such a good job, and I got excited. Don't be scared of me. I can't stand the thought of you being scared of me."
It actually hurt him down to his core. He didn't want that. He couldn't think about what he did want though, or it would distract him, and he couldn't be distracted. He needed to focus on getting her out of there right then, and nothing else.
She crept closer to him again, reaching through the bars.
"Max," she said, her eyes pleading.
He knew, oh, God did he know that she could kill him just as easily as she had everyone else, but he couldn't refuse her. Besides them touching noses as wolves, they had had no physical contact, and as their fingers touched, his sliding into the spaces between hers, he felt something so indescribably overwhelming pass through him, he lost the very breath in his chest and felt dizzy. The girl's body shivered, too, her eyes closing with a little gasp before they opened and looked into his.
She brought her free hand up to her chest.
"Eira."
"Eira…" he said, savoring the way her name tasted on his tongue. "That's you, you're Eira?"
She nodded, pointing to herself again.
"Eira."
"Eira," she said quietly, leaning forward, and she copied him. "Do you want to get out of here? Do you want to come with me?"
"W-with Max?"
"Yes. With Max." he said, pointing to himself and nodding; she seemed to understand head gestures, so he did that in case she didn't understand the "yes".
"With Max."
He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, bracing himself for what he knew he had to do. The only one he'd trust to help him was Barlowe.
Good thing Claron gave me the elevator code, and that tomorrow's Saturday. Nobody should be there.
"Ok." he said, taking both of her tiny hands in his. "I'll get you out. But I need help, ok? I need to go get help. I'll be back tomorrow, I promise, and then you can come with me."
He kissed her hands. She was so warm, like a tiny supernova. He wondered why.
"Goodbye, Eira. I'll see you tomorrow." he said, reluctantly standing up and letting her go.
"Max." she said, waving goodbye as she stared at him from the other side of the bars.
He almost couldn't leave. If it were any other circumstance, he'd have stayed.
You need help, Max. Just one more goodbye, and she'll be free. But…what if she doesn't want to stay with you? Stop it, it doesn't matter. She needs to be freed. And no matter what she chooses, you'll do it for her. You'd do anything for her.
He closed the door and rode the elevator back up with a sigh.
Luckily enough for Max, the Paleontology Building was just one building down from the Archaeology Building, with the Mythology/Folklore/Legends/Religious Studies Building (shortened to the MFLRS Building for the sake of Timeliness) between and connected to both on either side, since those three departments tended to help each other out a lot.
I wonder if there's anything in the MFLRS Building that may help me. he thought as he passed it, looking up at the stately old structure. Inside was a veritable Hogwartsian library of texts-from scrolls all the way up to books and computers packed with e-books-about, he imagined, every myth and mythological and/or folkloric creature the world over, legends ranging from Ling Arthur to the Fountain of Youth, and religious texts of sects that are and that were. There was rumor that there was a secret vault several hundred feet below the surface of the earth that either confirmed or denied many things. At this point, Max was pondering whether or not being skeptical of the vault's existence was a well-founded stance to take on the whole subject.
He continued on his way to the Paleontology Building, the doorway of which was surrounded by the jaws of a T-Rex, jagged, oversized, steak-knife like teeth jutted up and down, the tongue leading directly back to the door. Barlowe had funded the entire project himself, just because he had that kind of humor.
This is gonna cost me one of my internships. he realized as he opened the door, and a cacophonous roar of a T-Rex sounded, like the beast was bellowing victory after swallowing you whole. That was new. Barlowe must have just added that. He shook his head and smiled despite himself.
It wasn't hard to figure out which classroom he was in. He was the only one who counted watching Jurassic Park as class credit. Technically, he did say "Velociraptors didn't look like that", which Max guessed was teaching? Anyway, he went to the room that had the Jurassic Park theme song blaring from behind it. He didn't bother knocking. Barlowe wouldn't be able to hear, and it had been forever since Max had had to knock. Barlowe had told him to just come in whenever he wanted, so that's what he did.
Just as Max opened the door, it was the scene where the T-Rex defeated the velociraptors, and Barlowe was in the front of the class, up on his toes with his arms positioned like the T-Rex's, and he opened his mouth just as the T-Rex's triumphant roar echoed through the room, which, of course, cause raucous rounds of laughter to issue from the seated students.
"OH, HELLO MAX! HOW ARE YOU TODAY!?" Barlowe called over the sound of the movie, all appendages returning to their natural position.
Several of the girls on the room started whispering and giggling when Max walked in, stealing glances at him, and there was that one guy in the back who was always staring at him...like, not just in that class. He seemed to be everywhere.
Barlowe grabbed the remote and paused the movie.
"Alright, class! You are all dismissed early. Your homework for tonight is to think about which prehistoric animal is your favorite-meaning you can range from the Paleozoic to the Cenozoic before the rise of man, and make an educated guess about what they would sound like. You will demonstrate this sound to the rest of the class on Monday."
"Oh, you didn't have to stop the whole lesson-"
"Nonsense, my boy! Go on, the rest of you!" he said, and the students got up and left with laughing voices and discussions of weekend plans.
I guess that's for the best. I do not want anyone hearing what I have to say.
Barlowe looked back at Max with a warm, genuine smile. He was on the shorter side with half moon glasses sat on his nose, and gray, Albert Einstein like hair, which was only reinforced by the fact that he always wore a crisp white lab coat, and had others stashed around campus for when he inevitably got something on the one he was wearing. He had crow's feet that showed up when he smiled, which was a lot of the time, by his deep hazel eyes. He looked to be in his fifties, but Max knew he was actually older. Werewolve's regenerative properties allowed them to age slower than humans, though they were not immortal. Barlowe was really 75-80, and looked like he'd just turned 50.
"Come with me to my office, son. We will speak there." he said, leading Max. When they got to the door, he took out a key ring that looked like it belonged to a medieval jailer and started flipping through the keys. "No…" he tried one. "Not that one either…"
"The uh, the one with the saber-toothed cat on it, sir."
"Oh, yes! Right, right!" He swung the door open and it hit the wall behind it, causing the whole room to shake. Needless to say, that poor wall had had to be fixed many a time. Max had heard plenty of disgruntled sounds from the offices surrounding Barlowe's when he'd done that before, but heard none now.
Good. No one in earshot, at least.
"Have a seat, young Maxwell." Barlowe said, gesturing to the bean bag he had in lieu of an actual chair as he sat behind his desk, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
Max didn't particularly like the bean bag because it made a mildly disturbing sighing sound when he sat on it, and this time was no different.
"Mind if I eat my lunch whilst we converse? You want a half'a chicken salad sandwich? It's ttttoooaaaasssstttteeeeddddd."
"No, thank you. I, uh…just actually came from lunch…with a girl."
"Oh-HOOOOO! By this sacred campus of St. Thomas University! Is that what you wanted to talk about, Max?"
"Y-yes, but…ok, just hear me out."
He took a steadying breath and launched into the story of how he met the beautiful, mysterious, and, sadly, abused girl that went by the name of Eira.
"And I-Barlowe, I can't leave her in there. I could barely leave her when I came to you. Tomorrow, you know, no one should be there. But I'm going to do it with or without you."
Barlowe was quiet for a moment before he burst out.
"Always knew that Claron was a snake-in-the-grass, oh yes I did! Theodora in the MFLRS Building owes me fifty dollars! And don't be daft, boy, a'course I'm going to help ya."
"You-you will?!"
"It offends me you're acting so surprised, kid. Besides the fact that you've already paired with her," he said, flicking his eyes up to meet Max's meaningfully. Max's eyes went wide, blinking rapidly. "Pairing" is simply when a wolf chooses a mate, and it automatically happens upon the wolf seeing said mate for the first time. "Which ya have, sonny boy, let me tell you something: ya know Tess and I never were able to have children before she stopped runnin' with the pack," Barlowe's accent came out more around Max because he was comfortable for him to be around. The term "stopped running with the pack" was just a kinder way of saying a wolf passed on; another way to say this is "running with the star pack", in reference to the constellation Lupus, where the souls of werewolves are said to travel after they've departed, and are said to be greeted by the First Alphas, the first two werewolves ever in existence. "And I know yer parents are kind and good people, so I ain't tryin' to overstep bounds'r anythin', but I've always thought of ya as a son, as did Tess, Alphas rest her soul. I know'r whole extended pack is our family, but you, boy, have always been special to us. Tomorrow, we get yer girl out." he laughed ironically. "Guess 4,000 years ain't really a "girl" anymore, though, eh?"
Max laughed, though it was apparent he was terribly nervous.
"I guess not. But, as long as she looks like it, we can fool anyone else."
"So, what time are we movin' tomorrow, son?"
"I'll need to disable the security systems first, so eight o'clock in the morning."
"See ya then, kid."
Max could barely sleep that night, and not for lack of trying. He knew he needed to be sharp and ready, but the thought of Eira sent his mind and body into a frenzy.
Thankfully, he was just too keyed up to notice how tired he was. He'd disabled the security cameras and met Barlowe out in front of the Archaeology Building at eight on the dot.
"Ya ready ta get yer girl, son?"
"Yeah. Yeah, let's do this."
"Oh, wait." Barlowe said, handing Max a piece of black material. Max held it up.
"Is…is this a ski mask?"
"Yah." Barlowe replied, pulling his own over his head.
"You know I specifically knocked the cameras out so we wouldn't have to do anything crazy like this, right?"
"Ssssshhhhh don't fight it. You know you want to."
Full disclosure, he really did want to. With ski masks firmly in place, they entered the building. They were just outside of the elevator when, ding, it stopped. Someone was right on the other side of those doors. They scrambled, flinging themselves into the nearest room that wasn't Claron's office.
"Why is someone here?! No one's supposed to be here! That was the whole reason I picked a Saturday!" Max whisper-yelled.
"Can promise you it's no good, lad." Barlowe replied quietly.
"I'm telling you, Gretchen." came Claron's voice, ringing with excitement. "Our lives are going to be changed for the absolute best. Are you sure you gave her enough verbena to keep her out until we're rid of her?"
"According to our calculations, sir."
"Good, good."
Max and Barlowe locked eyes. They were taking her. They were taking Eira somewhere. They heard the rattle of a metal cage and and the squeaking of dolly wheels, so they must have sedated her, moved her to a smaller transport cage, and were now carting her off. Before Max could stop himself, he ran out just as they passed the room where he and Barlowe were hiding, and got in front of Claron and Gretchen.
"Max?" both Claron and Gretchen said in unison.
"Uh…hi."
"Maxwell," Claron began evenly. "Is that a ski mask you're wearing?"
"Uuuuuuummmmmm…"
There was a metallic thunk thunk as a piece of pipe cracked into Gretchen and Claron's skulls, dropping them instantly. Barlowe stood behind them, tapping the pipe against his palm.
"Be grateful you didn't decide on a career where you have to talk yourself out of anything, ever."
"No espionage for me, I guess." he said, bolting over to where they had Eira, who was indeed in a confined cage, very much unconscious. He was glad she hadn't tipped over when Claron let go of the dolly. "Eira. Eira!" he called. "Hey, you gotta wake up! Barlowe, does he have keys on him?"
"Let me check!" Barlowe said, running over to pretty much loot Claron. And also taking out a black permanent marker.
"Barlowe!" Max said urgently.
"I have an obligation to draw a penis on his face!"
"For the love of GOD, Barlowe!"
"There, two seconds. All done."
"Eira!" Max tried again.
This time, her eyes fluttered open, though she looked a bit worse for wear. Verbena took a lot out of the poor thing.
"M-Max?" she asked in a groan, her eyes mere slits.
"It's me, it's Max." he said, rushing forward and grabbing her hands. "We're gonna get you out, ok?"
"Out…with Max?"
"That's right. Barlowe, keys?!"
"Haven't found a thing, lad…unless they're on the girl?"
They both looked down at Gretchen's unconscious form and unanimously decided nope.
"Blood. She needs blood and she'll get her strength back. I think I can get her to bend the bars."
"Ya gonna offer her a vein?"
"Y-yes."
"You wot mate?"
He shoved his arm between two of the bars.
"Drink, Eira." he said, pantomiming a bite. "Do it so you can get strong and come with me."
"Drink…from Max?" she asked, like even with her broken mind she thought it was a bad idea.
"You have to. You won't hurt me."
She was quiet for a moment, staring at him, before she turned towards his arm, her lips brushing against the skin of his wrist. He tried not to shudder, but it was when she actually bit him that the groan came. It was completely automatic and uncontrollable. A vampire's bite was well known to be euphoric, so their prey won't put up a fight, but, as it turns out, "euphoric" didn't even begin to describe what it was. He'd have let her take every last drop he had in him just to feel her lips on him longer. She looked up at him from under her lashes, her eyes blazing red with his blood.
"Oh my God."
He knew he should have been petrified, but that was the last thing he was.
"Max, MAX! Pat attention, boy!" said Barlowe's voice, breaking through the revery.
"Eira. That's enough, Eira." he said, trying to pull his arm back through the bars.
She held on and growled.
"Eira…please."
She finally let go.
"That'a girl." he said with pride. He'd be a little woozy for a bit, but he had that werewolf healing factor. "Ok, now, you have to put your hands on these two bars like this, and push out." he said, demonstrating, able to bend the bars some himself.
She grabbed the two bars that he had and pulled at them until there was a metallic grinding, the bars bowing to her strength. As soon as the hole was big enough, he reached back inside and grabbed her out, scooping her into his arms. He looked down into her eyes as she looked up into his, and his very soul trembled. It was short lived, however, because she caught sight of Barlowe and growled, baring her fangs.
How can fangs be so cute? Is it just because you think she's the most adorable thing even when she's threatening? Her fangs are smaller than a regular vampire's, too…
"Eira, no, no. That's Barlowe. He's with me, too. He's going to help us."
"With Max…too?"
"Yes."
She looked over at Barlowe suspiciously, and he held up his hands, as if in surrender.
"I'll not harm a hair on yer pretty little head there, my darlin' lass. Promise. I just want to get you safe. Both of you."
She turned to look at Max again for further support, he nodded, and she responded in kind.
"Ok, Barlowe. Let's go."