The Waking (The Upturned Hourglass) (39 page)

Mortimus, with White-beard whispering in his ear, raised a silencing hand. Isaac, who had been building up steam through the course of his introduction, appeared irritated.

“Before we speak as to your motives for directly defying the law, perhaps detail what
precisely
it is that you have done,” Mortimus pronounced.

Isaac shot Mortimus an indulgent smile.
“Very well.

“About fifty years ago, after much of what you might call ‘soul-seeking’, I took to studying our law and history, in an effort to reconnect with my purpose, my fate. Somehow I lacked fulfillment despite bringing much-needed additions into the fold. I desired to do
more
to help our declining race. For as we multiply, we weaken.

“The number of Fated has dwindled through this last century and the power of others, in the pursuit of turning the worthy, has also lessened as they age. I need not particularize the physical ailments associated with the ability to induce the Change, for the Council knows as well as, if not better, than I. In any case, my search for a greater purpose led me to the very oldest of our records. I studied our origin, shrouded in inscrutability and it was through such examination that I realized that we are at a crossroads.

“We have forgotten Fate, our master, who long ago dictated that we ascend our rightful ruling place among the Occult.” Isaac’s voice began to boom, echoing off the blue draped walls. The sound made all present tingle with the stimulus. “Our insipid efforts at enhancing our race have come to naught. Our exertions have been fruitless in securing our status. The Vampyres remain a constant thorn in our side! The Fey have disappeared and yet we continue to treat their ghost with deference over past crimes! What about
their
crime? They are as guilty for giving no heed to our pleas for assistance as the Vampyres are for their betrayal.

“We must move forward. We must surpass those who would rather us die as an insignificant breed. The lack in the number of new Fated tells of our decline. Though we grow in numbers, the power we require cannot be found in mere multiplication. We must fortify our genetics. We must turn to the power inherent in our very blood. We must unlock the forbidden power.”

Gasps sounded throughout the room. Even Jack and Shane looked sickened, as they came to know what Valie had only recently discovered herself. The only unaffected were Terrence and Valie.

Isaac went on.

“It is true that Lycan-human breeding produces unfavorable results—in general. But after some trial and error, I have discovered an advantageous result
is
possible.” The speaker paused a moment, for apparent dramatic effect, letting his words sink in. Jack, picking up on the words “trial and error,” looked to Valie for an answer as to what exactly that meant. She could not meet his eyes.

“My first success, Valentine is the offspring of myself and a human woman, Elizabeth McRae.” Valie froze and glared at Isaac’s back with a kind of slow-burning fury as he continued. “
Elizabeth was a young woman of twenty-three. She was healthy, responsible, and truly a good person. After much debating, I even revealed myself to her. She accepted what I was, though I knew she would not accept my fate, my purpose.

“She was the first one of my inevitable casualties that made
me seek some sort of alternative to the usual birthing process of which the mother is always a victim. No alternative could be found. A modern-day Caesarian section would only add stress to both the mother and child and by the end of the gestation period anyway, the foreign Lycan genetics infect the mother to the point of fatal incompatibility. The mother was unsalvageable.”

“Monster!
You killed her!” Valie cried suddenly, tears springing to her eyes. She couldn’t stand her mother being spoken of in such a way. She had essentially given her life for Valie, an act more admirable than anything Isaac had ever done. What right did he have in degrading her existence?

Isaac
turned, his eyes alight, the amber color almost sparkling. “It is there that you are wrong, my dear. It is
you
that killed her.”

Valie gasped, tears overflowing, her ever-present fear confirmed, played off of by the maniacal father she had never known and now never wanted to know.

Jack squeezed her tighter, kissing the side of her head, trying to whisper reassurance.

“Isaac,” Mortimus commanded. “Continue.”

Isaac turned back round. “Of course. My apologies.

“As I was saying, due to my fondness of the McRae woman, you cannot imagine my delight when, out of all the others, Elizabeth’s daughter turned out to be the only one of the half-blooded offspring to have all the physical requirements needed to support the Change. The others died young of physical ailment. Some never made it past birth. A few would have had weak, insignificant futures, but they could not have supported my purposes. Valentine, however, grew strong in both mind and body. I checked on her progress every few years.

“The pack I had sustained during my time with Elizabeth, except for two, disagreed with my methods. Once they were taken care of, I needed to bolster my followers. My new additions, however, were younger and more immature. Any information of my designs for the half-blood girl were kept secret for fear of unwanted and deficient word of my doings reaching the Council’s ears before such a time as this, when my plans have properly matured. Jack Haden illustrates this point. If he had not threatened to reveal my plans precipitately, we might not be in this position.” Isaac looked troubled for a moment, before composing himself, waving away the frustration with his hand. “No matter. I was arranging to inform the Council of my discoveries this night besides.

“And so here I am, ready to aid the Lycanthrope people by showing them that the power of Abomination may be controlled and set to whatever designs seen fit. Let Valentine live and she will not only be a half-blood child, but a transformed force no Occult being will be able to reckon with.” A fanatical glint shined in Isaac’s eyes; his words grew excited. “She will be the most powerful demonstration of Lycanthrope power this world has ever seen—not such as Leian’s son, a flawed child attempted to set right by the Change—but a carefully planned, adept combination of genetics. Let your decision not be guided by the prejudice of the past, but the possibility of the future.”

Isaac seemed to recognize his increasing intensity and took a deep breath. The action reminded Valie of Jack to whom she looked. The boy’s jaw was locked, his eyes wild. Valie suddenly feared that Isaac, as a begrudged father figure to Jack, might win over the younger’s good opinion. They had so much history. What if Isaac’s argument—so obviously psychopathic to Valie—appeared reasonable to the surrounding Lycanthropes? What should she do then?

Jack turned his eyes to hers, vanishing all doubt with the look. His eyes held no admiration. They held no uncertainty, no doubt. Only ferocious incensement burned in the azure pools. Valie paled at Jack’s intensity, but took no step back. She berated herself for any questioning of his loyalty. She loved him. She could trust him.

Valie watched in apprehension as the Council sat silently. No one seemed eager to breathe, much less make noise.

“Thank you,” Mortimus articulated finally, releasing those in the room from their spell of stillness. “We will now consult.”

Valie felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach. This was it. This was when her future would be determined.

The Council argued for a decidedly long period of time. Finally, after no small amount of misgiving on the part of those
to be judged, Mortimus spoke.

“You may step down, Isaac. Lieutenant…” Daniel stepped forward from his position beside Terrence, offering a slight, dignified bow, his long, blonde hair, pulled back in a ponytail falling over his shoulder. “Arrest him.” Mortimus nodded toward Isaac who looked genuinely surprised for the first time during the entire proceeding.

Before Daniel could execute his order, a commotion broke out at the back of the room. Shouting was heard behind the thick double doors.

“Noah?” Valie whispered to Jack. The boy’s brow furrowed. One could only hope.

Suddenly the doors burst open. Snarls accompanied an exchange of blows. Valie whirled round just as two soldiers were thrown into a nearby wall, their heads colliding with a sickening
crack
. A swirl of red hair whipped around. Everywhere it turned, chaos ensued.

It was Eliza.

“Seize them!” Mortimus yelled over the clamor. Confused soldiers rushed both the prisoners and the attackers, splitting their unorganized force.

Jack, leaving Valie’s side for an instant to dispatch a pair of guards, growled that they needed to make their way to the exit. The boy looked invigorated with the brawl; he almost looked happy. Shane, too, looked excited.

Valie searched the room, glancing about before Jack could lead her away.

Noah appeared a moment later, breathing heavily and bleeding from a four-lined scratch across his young, bare chest. Apparently some of the soldiers were changing in an effort to repel the dissenters.

“Eliza and I convinced any of the pack that had remained in town that the Council was making a power play against Isaac,” Noah panted. “But there weren’t many, we’ve got to get out fast before the tides turn out of our favor.”

“Where’s Isaac?” Valie asked just as a young soldier fell unconscious at her feet. She shied away from the body.

Valie caught sight of a feral-looking black wolf that had done the deed. He was rushing past to reach the red-haired she-wolf ripping through the ranks. A wicked howl echoed through the room. It was Terrence, off to defend his love.

“I don’t know,” Jack replied. “We don’t have time to worry about him. Shane, Noah, get Valie outside. I’ll cover you.” The two werewolves nodded, grabbing Valie before she could protest. She soon stopped trying, in order to focus on keeping up with her defenders. Shane proved to be a capable fighter as she danced easily from one soldier to the next, stalling, blocking, wounding and eventually incapacitating each one.

A knife fell from the grasp of one of Shane’s opponents. Quickly and clumsily, Valie stumbled to pick it up. She didn’t like being defenseless. Noah encouraged her up and away toward the door. Before Valie could realize what happened, Shane snatched the knife out of Valie’s hand mid-battle.

“Not for you,” Shane scolded, though she smiled as her attacker grabbed her to wrench her slender arm behind her. Valie gasped, fearful for Shane’s well-being, but with her free hand, the she-wolf plunged the knife into the soldier’s side. He cried out, letting go, clutching at his bleeding mid-section. Shane shoved him to the ground and hurried Valie and Noah outside.

Valie, winded, searched for any sign of Jack. She inquired about his absence as the three ran to the edge of the woods just before a good-sized, tree-dense hillock.

“He’ll catch up,” Shane replied, though she sounded far from certain. Valie marveled at the fact that neither she nor Noah seemed at all out of breath.

A couple of minutes passed, they listened to the fight begin to subside as they hid in the brush.

The she-wolf finally nodded, serious.
“Alright. I’m going back. Guard her,” she ordered Noah. The boy nodded his assent. Valie watched in wonder as the girl transformed into a nimble, honey-colored wolf and took off, back toward the church.

Valie went to pick up Shane’s clothing and found only a cloak and long, button-down jacket. She must have been captured in wolf form. The soldiers had been decent enough to provide her with attire.

Before Valie could rise, a defensive growl sounded. With a cry, Noah fell to the ground. Valie ran to him, slipping in the deep mud in her attempts at hurrying. She looked around but no one could be seen. She lifted Noah from his prone position, taking his head into her lap. With her fingers she felt blood wetting the boy’s scalp. He was unconscious.

She was alone.

Valie’s heart stopped, her mind went blank.

“Help!”
Valie cried, frightened. She suddenly feared her surroundings, the dark unknown, the looming trees, the repressive silence that reigned in the damp night air. He was there. He was watching.

He had her.

Nearby leaves rustled close by making her scream.

She stared at the bushes in horror as two big, yellow eyes stared back from the leafy shade. A low growl erupted from the invisible form, making her gasp sharply.

Slowly, a huge black wolf stepped threateningly from the bush; its lips pulled back in a sneer, revealing its devastatingly long teeth.

The growl continued to grow until it was a horrid snarl.

Valie was no more than ten feet away from the ominous creature. Its rapid breathing was warm against her sweat-dewed skin. Gradually, it brought itself closer until it crouched down to her level, ready to spring.

She had no chance of escape from her awkward, bent position over Noah’s prone form. Fear had paralyzed her, making her thought processes slow and erratic. All she could think about were those huge teeth and mesmerizing golden eyes, their unnatural glow.

Isaac.

The thing pounced swiftly, its expression fierce. Pain seized Valie as the wolf grabbed her right forearm in its iron jaws, viciously clamping down.