Arch 1
Chapter 4
A Few Hours Earlier…
Claron had woken up with a raging headache and a knot on the back of his head roughly the size of a guava fruit. He groaned, sitting up and gingerly touching the spot that had lumped up, and when he withdrew it, it came back bloody. He looked over at Gretchen's still unconscious form. She was breathing, so she was ok, if a bit worse for wear.
"What the blazes-" he was a little fuzzy on how this all happened, but then the memories started making their way back to him. "That bastard!" he growled. Max had completely betrayed him for that little abomination. But…Max had been in front them when they'd been hit on the back of the head. He had an accomplice. Good thing he had…contingency plans. But first, he had to call his buyer, who picked up in the first ring.
"Claron. I see things have been delayed. What's happened?" said a grizzled voice from the other line.
"We had some…unexpected complications. It's no matter. We'll procure the package again." he said, taking out a sleek silver device with one small red button in the middle out of his pocket.
"PROCURE?! You lost my parcel?! Do remember, Claron, we can go back to our usual relationship in the blink of an eye! You know our alliance was precarious from the start! If we believe you're no longer of use to us, we have no qualms about killing you, your entire pack, and any other of you unnaturals that may be in our way!"
"Button it down, St. James! I said I'd get her back, and I will. You remember I do not take kindly to threats."
"You have 48 hours before I lead the Cloak and Dagger into your little town of Thorn Grove and massacre the lot of you." St. James said, hanging up before Claron could answer.
"Should've never fell in with that lot. What a mistake." Claron grumbled, turning to wake Gretchen. "Gretchen. GRETCHEN!"
She jerked and startled awake.
"Hmm, what? What happ-OW!" she winced, cradling the back of her tender head.
"We were double-crossed. Coincidentally, I'm going to be looking for a new protégé. Are you interested?"
She grinned despite the pain.
"You know I am."
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In a dark room with books shelves up to the ceiling on every side but the wall that had the door, lit only by candle light, a man sat at a huge oak desk, staring down at the papers and scrolls and books in front of him.
His name was Everett St. James. He had serious and very, very dark blue eyes. He kept his gray hair short and he was clean shaven. He had crow's feet at the corner of his eyes; it wasn't from smiling, however. It was from the constant squint he had to his eyes, likely because of the fact that he was blind in one of them, turning it a milky-white color, a scar marring his face from his forehead down to his jawline over it. On the table before him were pictures, particularly those of dragons, creatures as of yet to be found, some known to exist but so rare they may as well have been an extinct species, and one scroll containing a particularly cryptic and frustrating prophecy written entirely in Aramaic.
He only took his eyes away from the text when there came a knocking at his door.
"Enter." he said in his gravelly voice.
The heavy oak doors swung open almost creepily, and there stood the guy from campus that was always staring at Max, who, quite frankly, looked rather like a character out of a Tim Burton movie. He had bulging eyes, like he was perpetually seeing things no one else was, and they were ghost blue, the color of which was only slightly distinguishable from the whites around them. He was very tall and very gaunt, and pale to the point that you could see the blue of his veins underneath his translucent skin. His hair was black and slicked back, and, all in all, looked every inch the specter of death.
"Cato, do come in."
He did, and the way he stepped even seemed otherworldly. It was like he floated more than walked.
"What news have you for me?"
"The prophecy, sir." he said in a creaky voice no one his age should have had. It was like his mouth and throat were dry and no amount of water could quench him. "It draws closer and closer. I have seen it. Sue, there is no stopping it. No way I've seen of stopping it." he said, getting more and more frantic with every word. "But you-you won't listen to me, no you won't! I try and try to tell you but you refuse! You don't listen and you die because of it! Oh why, why won't you listen to me?!" he wailed, clutching fistfuls of his hair, going from frantic to straight hysterical.
Everett sighed and pressed a small button on his desk.
This was typical Cato behavior, acting like the future was set in stone, like he, Everett St. James, leader of the collective Cloak and Dagger the world over and the real most powerful man on earth couldn't pull a thread here and change the future there. This was why he had Cato. So he knew what he could do to prevent things from happening that would be counterproductive to their cause. But Cato was no help when he got like this.
Two men were summoned when Everett pressed the button to come deal with Cato. They moved silently, and Cato was too beside himself to realize they had come up behind him, one of them jabbing a needle into the side of his neck as his body went limp. Both the men dragged him away, nodding their heads respectfully to Everett and not looking him in the eyes as they left.
The not looking him in the eyes thing was a respect thing, but it was also because there had been a rumor going around that, if you looked directly into his blind eye, it could and would take your soul. Everett didn't see the harm in just not correcting it.
he sighed and pulled out his phone, dialing a number and then pressing it to his ear.
"Cadence. Hello, baby girl. I know you and your brother are on vacation, but you need to come back a little early. I may need your help."
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As it turned out, food was far more important to Eira than clothes. Somehow, this didn't surprise Max at all in the least. She was taring through the Chinese food that Barlowe had bought for them like a maniac. There were a few times they'd almost lost fingers. Max just couldn't be mad at her for it, and, of course, thought it was cute, even though he could have been out an arm, and Barlowe took it in stride.
"Spitfire, this one. Tess would'a bitten off my hand, too, if she thought I may be making a move for a morsel'a hers!" he laughed heartily, slapping his knee.
"Oh, I…am sorry." Eira said, not even realizing she was hogging the food. "I spent almost all my life fighting for food…"
"Not at all, little lass. I could cut back a bit, if we're bein' honest." he said with a smile, patting his belly. "You eat whatcha want. There can always be more."
"Thank you." she said, continuing to eat.
Max sighed and rubbed his eyes.
"I dunno what I'm gonna do, Barlowe. I lost my paid internship with Claron now, and I don't know how…" he gestured around in a general way. "is going to affect my work with you."
"It's not."
"…How is it not?"
"What, you think I'd stop paying you just because you had a major life event happen? Kid, what yer doin' is right. Yer not gonna be punished for that. Plus, the way I see it, she can be an asset to our studies-granted, not the way that Claron did. Think of all she knows after 4,000 some odd years. Though I would like to run some tests to check on her health, since I doubt Claron will be awfully obliged to give us the information we want."
"HAH! Yeah, you'd be right there. And I called the pack, I don't think we'll need to run. Plus I think it would be better if we got those tests done, just in case. Eira," he said, and she looked up at him with a half a dumpling sticking out of her mouth. "We need to do some tests on you to make sure everything is ok with you. It's gonna mean you need to get stuck, but we're not gonna hurt you like the other man did. We're only going to make sure you're ok, and you're not going to be in a cage."
She looked at him contemplatively for a moment, as if weighing her options.
"I'll get you more Chinese food if you get it done and don't rip us to shreds."
"It is a deal." she agreed. "I think I am full now."
"Good, then you can start trying on clothes to see what you like."