"They have found me, Briar! Please!" The nymph looked down at the woman with a frown and tightly strung shoulders. She hadn't been in town long and was going to be moving away to once again follow a new lead, but that didn't stop her from socializing at the bar her first night.
The witch was a lovely girl around her twenties. Her hair was blonde and always strung up into a tight, intricate bun. The nymph never saw her without her feather headband and flapper dress, but she also never saw the witch outside of pubs. Her eyes were an odd blue that nearly went on to a lilac color. They never questioned her eyes, so the other respected that boundary.
The brunette was sitting on the bar stool whilst drinking an unsatisfying margarita and speaking to a handsome chap, one whom was far too young to even be considered, when Margo started yanking at her arm. The woman instantly gave her attention, feeling how much raw fear the witch was giving off. "Who has found you?" She watched the girl panic and hyperventilate.
Those lilac eyes looked everywhere, searching for the culprit of her anxiety. It caused the nymph to follow her lead. "Tawny's men! They, they, burned. My home, Briar, it's all gone! Everything, everything." The nymph hummed and pulled her into a strong hug, making sure the drink wasn't about to be spilled at all.
Tawny and his men claimed to own the streets at this time. He never directly set out to try and "keep her in line," so Briar never bothered with their affairs. Obviously, he had to cause more problems than she originally thought, but that was the thing about wolves. They always thought they were the top of the food chain until a larger predator arrived and they had to tuck their tail and run. Prideful little mutts, they were.
It was a hard century for witch kind. The hybrid eventually pulled away when her sobs started to come to an end. One hand kept on the witch's shoulder and the other kept the glass close to her side. Staring her directly in the eye, "What would you like me to do about that?"
Walter was officially worried about the nymph's mental health. Back at the coven's main residence the woman had been staring at an image of one of the coven's major ancestors. It was a strong witch by the name of Margaret Williams. She was born around 1899 and passed away in 1923 due to a fire that burned down the very first coven meeting. Everyone in the coven knew of her and that was why there was also an altar under her portrait. Now Briar was sat with her eyes out the passenger window with a blank expression. He didn't know whether to question it or distract her in any way.
"Would you like to go out tonight? Eat out maybe?" His eyes flickered back and forth from the road to her, even though she didn't turn to acknowledge him. "Of course, it would have to be a human meal, since we don't want you murdering anyone, but then we would be able to go to the mall as well."
Briar still didn't turn his way. "Yay. I would love to go out and pretend to socialize with beings that could be my actual meal." He frowned and went to correct her, but she interrupted. "Yes, yes. I am aware I cannot with the contract that is in place. I don't see that woman's reason for letting you in on the specifics. I do not need a babysitter." Her multi-colored eyes turned his way for the first time since they passed Margaret's alter. "I apologize. May we go out and socialize?"
The man put on a grin and turned immediately off the way to his apartment. They going deeper into the heart of the city. The restaurant they stopped in front of seemed lavish enough for her standards. "You're lucky I know the owner of this place, otherwise we'd probably be going to fast food," Walter said with a laugh. "Theodore owes me, so I'll just count that as a free ticket. Let's go." He stretched his elbow for her to take, which she did with a soft grin. It had been so long since she had been in the presence of someone who understands manners. Derek didn't count, because he seemed to always mock her in one way or the next.
The woman at the podium hadn't recognized Walter, which was slightly frightening for Briar, but went to bring the owner up either way. Theodore grinned and hugged Walter as soon as they had seen each other. He had introduced himself to her as well, furrowing his brows and scrunching his nose in confusion. "Is this a date? I didn't know you were able to real someone like this fine lady in," Theodore laughed, taking menus for them and leading the way to an open spot.
"Nope. Theodore, this is the woman that we have been looking for." The witch explained to the owner of the restaurant. So this man must know of the coven and their mission. That was odd for a mortal, unless the rules had changed. "Lady Briar Leucos in the flesh." It was as if Walter was showcasing a brand new toy. The nymph nodded quietly, thanking him when Theo pulled back her chair and pushed it in as she sat.
Theodore was a taller man than both Briar and Walter. His hair was in black, shiny curls with deep brown eyes to match. He had a hooked nose and sharp jawline covered in dark stubble, like he hadn't shaved a growing beard. He wore a black button up and black pants with a single silver chain that had the charm hidden into his shirt. Dashing, she had to give him that, but not her type. It was something about him that she didn't enjoy about his aura.
Walter sat across from her whilst Theo stood with hands on his hips. "Ah. Another of the undead, always a pleasure." He winked with his bright white teeth on display. Briar opened her menu in a disinterested manner to pretend she hadn't swooned.
"Technically, I never died. Sorry to disappoint." A rare steak seemed to look good. Now if she could figure out where that was on the menu. Thank the Earth that she was noble enough to actually be taught to read. "I don't suppose that means you are an immortal?" She didn't want to use the word demon, seeing as it was already offensive back in the day. Imagine how offensive it would be with this generation. Walter already explained to her that the people in this time were sensitive.
She could see the man shrug his shoulders. "Nope. Just a baby vamp came around her half a week ago looking for some of his own territory. Good luck to him. Probably won't be able to do such a thing without the council knowin'." Her gaze turned up to him, then Walter, before settling back on to the menu. She didn't really care much about the stranger to outwardly ask about his origins. It was simply odd that a mortal would know so much. "Werewolf, honey. Mortals still don't know about anything. Kinda is against the rules. Thought you'd be able to smell that when you came in."
"I thought I would too. Turns out, my nose has it a little rough currently. Couldn't even sniff out Walter's pet fae." Walter opened his mouth to try and correct her, but was once again cut off. This time by Theodore's laughter and a waitress that came by to take their orders. Theodore ordered for them, including a rare steak just as Briar had been looking for. She would have been appreciative if it also didn't come with a knowing wink. "I'm guessing you could sniff me out as soon as I stepped a foot out of the vehicle."
"Yep. Almost lost me at first, because you smell exactly like the woods outside the city. Gotta appreciate that, huh Walter? Oh, never mind. I forget you still have the nose of a human." Theodore continued to laugh at Walter's expense. The waitress came and set down the wine glasses. She poured each person a cup a third full, including Theodore. Except his glass went directly into his hand. "Thanks, love," he said as the woman sauntered off.
The witch sat back with crossed arms and a playful smirk. "Watch yourself, mutt. You're still a rogue. I can always run you out of town." Finally, Briar laughed, putting the wine glass up to her lips for a small sip.
The nymph placed the wine glass down, still watching her friend ramble angrily. Briar had decided that she was treating them both to a fine meal at one of the better restaurants in town. In fact, this place was owned by the Tawny men. They were being watched ever since they stepped on to the street corner. Margaret had stopped her rambling only once, to tell the nymph to thank her husband for the meal whenever she got home. Briar wanted to laugh at that. Of course, women at the time weren't allowed to have access to their own bank account, but she wasn't going to correct the witch.
"My grimoire was in there," the witch realized aloud with a groan.
Briar shrugged as though it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't to her, seeing as her friend was alright, but Margaret was heartbroken. "I could always try to force you to rewrite it all. Just need to put down your witch walls. The answers are always in your subconscious whether you know them through your own memory or not." She glanced around the nearly empty building. Thankfully, it was nearly empty. It was nearing one in the morning, but the restaurant stayed open late.
"The fact that you already know that is terrifying," the blonde grumbled into her hands. The nymph was bringing a spoonful of her soup to her mouth when the other slammed her hands down on to the table. Extremely rude, but Margaret wasn't done. She began to stand from her seat with a determined expression. "You know what! I'm going to teach them not to mess with a Williams witch!"
"You will not. Sit back down this instant," the nymph commanded. She did as told with a huff. Her beaded dress rattled at all of her sudden movements. "You will tell me exactly who, of the Tawny men, has done this and I will get your revenge. I don't want you lifting a single finger, do you understand?"
The witch pouted, "You think I'm weak, don't you?"
"No," she hummed after blowing at the warm spoonful. "I think I am strong. A pack of meaningless mutts are not worth your time. I understand that it was your coven that lost their lives in that fire, but you are not capable of being a one man army. I am. Do you understand me, Margo? You will not step near the battle or God help me..." Then the witch was back to sobbing. Briar wasn't too good with this comforting thing. "Who did this to your people? I only need a few names."
"Alright..."
Briar must have zoned out, because she was back with Walter and Theodore when the clanking of plates distracted her from old memories. A beautifully undercooked steak was now presented to her and Walter had a stew of some sort. Theodore had finally pulled up a chair and decided to stay awhile. Apparently, Walter must have invited him to take a seat. They were in the middle of a discussion about how superior one species was above the other.
"Speaking of werewolves, Theodore." She gained their attention almost instantly. "Enlighten me. How many packs are there? They still run each by their own set of laws, correct?"
Theodore stumbled a bit, but she simply waited. The steak was cooked just to her liking, which she could see as she cut into the meat. The tang of animal blood was all she needed to truly enjoy the piece. Otherwise it would be bland as any other bit of human food. "Yeah, the packs all run on their own. The territories are all split up now though, so there are places that are considered no-man's land. Just in case, yaknow?"
"Right. So there still isn't any higher power that your top dogs have to look up to?" She asked innocently, enjoying yet another bite. Walter frowned at her questions, but Theodore had the opposite expression.
His thin lips were tilted into a smirk and he waved his hand around in the air. "You know how the alphas are. Always too damn petty to follow anyone." That was going to be slightly difficult for her, then. Not impossible, but difficult. "That being said, when a pack becomes big and strong enough, they basically have an empire faze. Been happening all throughout history."
"Yes, I have noticed that in my conscious days as well. Simply hoped that that was forgotten. I forget that life is like a cycle. Live, destroy, die, repeat." The last statement was quiet as she pressed her thumb lightly into some of the animal blood that could be seen on the white plate and lifted it to examine it.
Briar stared out at the gore with a grin. Thank God their pack house wasn't at the center of the city. She reached out her blood covered arms, beginning to drag the closest corpse into the home. Slowly, one by one, she was putting the werewolves into her home. It was sick of her, but she decided to place them how she thought they would be before she decided to destroy their pack.
A few would be placed at the dining hall where there was still a large meal being served. Others were placed elsewhere in the pack home. Mocking their everyday lives. She didn't trouble herself with going any speed, but human. She was having far too much fun playing house. Why would she speed up the process when she had all the time in the world? At one point, she accidentally tripped over some corpse's entrails. In a small tantrum, she ripped the body limb by limb and piece by piece, until her anger was able to calm itself once again.
The nymph was just about down with her work when she heard her name being called out. She was reaching down to grab another of her dolls, but looked up at Margo's voice. The witch was sobbing and scared once again. It was confusing. Couldn't the girl obviously see that the threat was gone. The men were taken care of, just as Briar promised. Why couldn't the witch calm down now?
"What's wrong, hun?" Briar cooed. She straightened and spread her bloody arms in a way of having her show off her masterpiece. "I told you I would take care of it. Why are you here?"
Margaret choked back another sob, backing up a fearful step. "I, I was worried about you. You have been, have been taking so long." Briar smiled and stepped forward, but her expression flattened when the witch took another step back. Her arms went back down to her sides and her frown appeared at the other woman's finch.
"You're scared of me? This is what you asked for, Margo. I did this to keep you safe and now I'm no longer worth your trust." Briar barked out some viscous laughter, "Perhaps you would have rather I left you and the pathetic remains of your people to live in fear of these overgrown mutts?" The little witch took off; but, whilst she was crossing the street corner, she was slammed into by a speeding vehicle. Briar froze, watching the car speed past herself as well without stopping once. Leaving behind the mangled corpse of Margaret Williams.
The nymph slowly finished tucking away the last werewolf corpse and lit the home on fire with a lighter that was set in one of the men's pockets. Then she went to her witchy friend. Her only friend that she made in that city. Her friend died fearing her. The nymph didn't touch her corpse. Instead, she went to the Earth beside her final resting place and began the process of growing the makings of a large, strong willow tree.
Briar finished her meal, waiting patiently for Walter to do the same. It took longer, because he was still socializing with the werewolf, but the nymph didn't complain. As soon as they were back in the car, she turned away from him. "I have changed my mind. I would like to go back to your home, sir."
The witch boy simply nodded at her request.