Huntington Beach

Sanders Mansion

1926

Midnight

Matthew Sanders paced the long hallway above the dungeons a thick length of chain wrapped around his left forearm.

“Master...”

He turned cold hazel eyes toward a liveried servant cowering in the shadows.

“What?” His lip curled slightly, the tips of his fangs showing.

“They’ve captured another one...”

Matthew snarled.

“Where?”

“Eastern wall, Master. A youngling...barely a cub...they’re bringing him into the stables...”

The master vampire turned, broad shoulders tensed visibly.

“Tell them to bring it to my chambers. I’m in the mood for a little...fun.” The final word dripped from his lips like venom. The servant bowed low.

“Master...”

He scurried away leaving the powerful male to ponder his next move.

* * * * *

A dull painful throbbing at the base of his skull was the first sign that he was still alive. Giving a tiny whimper, the young Werewolf forced his eyelids open and managed to lift his tail slightly off the...soft cashmere rug?

He blinked blearily attempting to take in his surroundings. His nostrils twitched at the many strange scents drifting above and around him.

Where am I...?

“My chambers, wolf.” The voice that responded was deep, husky...terrifying. The Were cowered and peered round to see where the voice had come from. His eyes finally settled upon a bulky figure lounging on what almost looked like a throne. His eyes watered slightly and the wounds on his body began to throb even more.

He whined wagging his tail in distress, hackles bristling. The figure rose and stepped forward gazing upon the prone youngling. The tips of two perfectly white fangs showed as he smiled cruelly. The Werewolf shuddered when he realised what his captor was.

Bloodsucker... He snarled weakly fur bristling even more. The vampire crouched close by his head bracing muscular forearms against his thighs.

“No need to use that tone on me, wolf. You’ll just bring more pain on yourself.”

The young Were whimpered again as another stab of pain surged through his body. His tail twitched faintly against the floor. He whined suddenly afraid stretching out his front paws in desperation. Then he settled as the pain dissipated somewhat. The vampire chuckled low in his throat.

“You’ll watch your tone now, won’t you?”

The youngster whined in affirmation, rubbing his muzzle against the warm rug.

“Good pup. Now.” The vampire moved back to his chair staring down at his prisoner. “Your name, and pack affiliation.”

Seward...Jonathan Seward...the...the Seward pack...Jonathan whined tail twitching again. You’re...you’re Shadows...Sanders...Matt-

Matthew snarled. “You don’t say my name.”

Another shot of pain jolted through the Were’s body. He growled in agony, body twitching, legs thrashing, arching his neck ears pressed flat against his head. Then he went limp, tongue lolling from his open mouth, saliva trickling down a large canine.

Matthew observed him silently, eyes travelling over the dark matted fur; taking in the lighter yet dirty underbelly fur. There were massive cuts in the youngling’s hindquarters and sides causing his breathing to escape in raspy puffs of air. All four of his paws twitched as if he were attempting to run away or, perhaps reliving his capture deep in his pain-riddled mind.

The thing about Werewolves, if they were wounded they always resorted back to wolf form; it was less strain upon their bodies and they healed much faster than in human form. It made it harder for a vampire to read their emotions and intent though, so Matthew knew he would have to force Seward to transform. However, the vampire had other business he needed to attend to first.

Rising from his throne, he walked over to where he had draped the heavy length of chain. Lifting it from the end of his four-post bed, he walked back to the unconscious Were and crouched down by his head. For a moment, he just stared at the young werewolf, and then absently stroked his fingertips along its soft muzzle. Jonathan let out a tiny whimper then stilled once more.

Matthew licked along a fang as he looped the length of chain around the youngling’s neck locking it in place. Then he hauled his prisoner across the floor to the wall where a metal ring was attached. He slid the other end of the chain into the metal ring and secured it.

Stepping back he studied the prone form of the young Were for a moment longer, then swung around and exited the chamber, the door thudding heavily behind him.

5 AM

“So, what exactly do you plan to do with that dog, Shads?”

Crows were beginning to call out in the large courtyard beyond the huge dining hall. Four vampires sprawled around a long oaken table dining from several platters of assorted meat and fruit. Matthew was at the head of the table sucking on a duck bone a thoughtful expression in his bright hazel eyes. The vampire who had spoken, a tall lanky figure with longish black hair and watchful grey eyes, picked absently at his fangs.

The master vampire glanced toward the lanky vamp and shrugged.

“Not sure, Reverend...he’s only a pup...”

“Kill him...” A low voice snarled. Matthew looked toward the speaker, frowning deeply. This vampire was heavily muscled, shorter than the master was but still powerful. Long black hair fell around an angular face; deep brown eyes stared brutally out at the room around him.

‘What’s that, Haner?”

The other vampire repeated harshly, after taking a sip from the goblet clutched in his right hand, “Kill him. He’s a waste of space. He deserves to die as do the rest of the Lycan scum...”

The Reverend shifted on his chair.

“Whose call is it?”

Haner grumbled, “Shadows’ of course. Who else’s would it be? He is the master here...”

Matthew’s lip curled showing his fangs clearly.

“And don’t you dare to forget it, Synyster.”

He glanced toward the fourth vampire who was ploughing through a stack of watermelon like it was the final meal he were ever going to eat.

“Zachary, have you gone herbivorous?”

Zachary Baker lifted glowing green eyes from the mess he was making and smirked faintly before swallowing.

“No, sir...I’ve already eaten my entire cow...” He waved a hand at the empty platter in front of him; the only thing left on it the red juice of the animal’s blood.

“Cow?” Synyster choked on the goblet of wolf blood he was gulping. “Why are you eating that?”

Zachary shrugged. “It tastes good.”

“It tastes good? Unbelievable...unbelievable...” Synyster tossed the goblet aside and stood up. “I’ll tell you what’ll taste nice: If we go bleed that Lycan in Shadows’ chambers...now there’s something that’ll taste good.”

Matthew growled low rising from his seat.

“You’ll not touch him unless I say so. He’s mine to deal with.”

He braced his palms against the table, muscles bunching in his arms. The ink on his right arm appeared to ripple as his bicep tightened. Zachary glanced at their leader.

“Cool it, master...Syn was just joking right?” The youngest vampire then looked at Haner whose jaw was clenched tight, muscle twitching along the hard line. “Right, Haner?”

“I’d bleed the pup dry...” Synyster spat savagely. But, then he let out a sharp laugh. “Still, I was just pointing out that he’d taste better than that cow you’re eating.”

Zachary folded his arms.

“Well, since Matthew has forbidden us from hunting humans...”

“There’s a reason for that. We’d all be dead if we hunted the people of Huntington.”

Synyster rolled his eyes.

“No, the reason is you’re a controlling son of a-” He gasped as his throat constricted. Matthew stalked from the end of the table to where he sat and leaned over him, placing his hands on the arm rests staring hard into his eyes.

“I wouldn’t finish that thought, if I were you, Brian Haner Jr.”

Synyster swallowed hard and averted his gaze unable to meet the cold stare of the master vampire. Matthew continued to glare at him until Synyster couldn’t handle it anymore and vanished from beneath his bulky frame. The larger vampire snarled, but let it go, turning to the remaining two.

“Right. I need you two to go back to the Eastern wall and keep patrolling. I need to deal with the Lycan...”

The Reverend inclined his head slightly, unfolding his lean frame from his chair and vanishing into thin air. Zachary smacked his lips, saluted the huge male and disappeared after The Rev.

Matthew sighed, smearing his large hands over his face. A servant scurried into the dining room, cowering slightly as he moved quickly to clear the long table. The master vampire ignored the servant making for the huge double doors, before changing his mind and vanishing back to his rooms.

* * * * *

Jonathan groaned as he opened his eyes. His back legs twitched and he flicked his tail as he scanned the room. The vampire materialised in the centre just as he was about to close his eyes again.

“Wakey, wakey, pup...I need to talk to you.”

Matthew moved to stand above him. Jonathan curled his lip in answer and shuffled back against the wall, hackles up, ears flat back against his head.

I’m awake...what do you want, bloodsucker?

“You know you’re in no position to be insulting me, wolf.”

Jonathan growled low, ears flicking back and forwards.

What do you want from me...?

Matthew leaned against the end of his bed staring down at the Werewolf.

“Usually, I’d want nothing but to rip out your throat and mount your head on the wall of the trophy room.” He leaned forward. “Either that or let my Lieutenant bleed you dry...”

The youngling shuddered in disgust.

You drink Were blood?

“Not me personally. I prefer human blood any night.”

Jonathan snarled softly the fur at his throat bristling.

Why don’t you kill me? In fact, why am I still alive?

Matthew rubbed his jaw slowly expression grave.

“You might still die.”

The Were tucked his head beneath his paws and snuffled weakly.

I might as well...

Matthew frowned slightly.

“What?”

Jonathan rumbled tiredly.

Outcast... He curled up and closed his eyes.

“Oh no you don’t...” Matthew moved forward and crouched in front of him grabbing the chain and pulling it tight against his windpipe. Jonathan snarled and scrabbled at the floor with his front paws, claws scratching at the stone floor. The vampire jerked his head up and stared into his eyes.

“I haven’t finished, pup.”

Jonathan snuffled and tried to pull away, baring his teeth. Matthew wrapped one large hand around his muzzle grasping it in an iron grip.

“You bite and I’ll rip out your stomach while you’re still breathing.”

The Were went limp at the vampire’s touch, eyes downcast.

“That’s better.” Matthew released his muzzle and propped back on his heels. “Now. What were you doing trying to break in over the Eastern wall?”

Jonathan flicked his tail but didn’t respond. Honestly, he had no real idea what he had been doing. He had just wanted to get away from his overbearing family members who had been on his back about growing up and taking responsibility within his pack. Of course, he didn’t think the vampire would understand all that so he kept his jaw shut tight.

Matthew’s gaze narrowed.

“Maybe I should give you over to Synyster. He’ll get you to talk.”

The name that rolled off the master vampire’s lips sent tingles of terror through Jonathan’s body. Synyster Gates was not a name that any Werewolf threw around lightly. He was the Sanders’ Lieutenant and every youngling was told tales of the notorious vampire as a warning to never stray too far from pack territory.

The young Were lifted his head a little.

No need... He made a rasping bark then pawed at the floor. I just wanted to get away from the pack...I...I’ve reached the age of responsibility...and I don’t want it...

Matthew blinked and shifted his weight settling in a more comfortable position.

“Explain.”

Jonathan rolled onto his side, raising his head a little more and resting his muzzle against his own shoulder, tongue lolling slightly.

I’m eighteen. This is the time when we should be finding a mate... He paused. Matthew lifted an eyebrow. He went on.I’m the eldest son...you can probably guess what that means... He turned his head and placed his paws over his muzzle. The vampire sensed the youngling had nothing more to say on that particular subject. He traced a fingertip along the tattoos on his right bicep.

“That doesn’t explain why you were at the wall.”

Jonathan shuddered, fur bristling slightly.

I was just wandering...I wasn’t trying to...I didn’t mean... There was fear in his mind. He didn’t want to die for making a mistake. He had not intended to do any wrong, had meant nothing by it. He was sick of the war and wanted nothing to do with it.

Matthew snorted sucking on a fang.

“Are you telling me that you just happened to climb over the wall for no apparent reason?”

The Werewolf growled defensively.

Yes.

The master vampire stood and clicked his fingers. There was a soft pop and Synyster appeared at the door. Deep brown eyes scanned the chamber and rested upon Jonathan’s lean, shaggy form.

“Ah...something you want me to do, Shadows?”

Matthew spoke quietly, the tone more frightening than if he had yelled.

“Get the truth out of him. But, make sure he’s still alive when you’re done.” He added after a second’s deliberation, “Force him to transform...that way it’ll be easier to discern his intentions.”

Jonathan’s eyes widened in terror; his lips peeled back from his teeth and he snarled backing up as far as the chain around his neck would allow.

No, I’m telling you the truth...please don’t let him near me... His tail tucked between his back legs as he cowered into the floor.

Synyster laughed the sound grating against the Werewolf’s ears.

“We’ll see about that, dog.” He unhooked the chain from the ring on the wall, wrapping it around his arm. Then with a nod to Matthew, he vanished hauling Jonathan with him.

Notes