8 AM

The Reverend scowled at the piece of paper Zachary thrust into his hand.

“What the hell is this?”

Green eyes flashing, the other vampire shrugged.

“Not sure, but it was caught on the ledge over there...where we got that Lycan pup...”

The Rev followed where the younger vampire was pointing. The two vampires stood atop the Eastern wall. The huge Sanders’ estate sat atop one of the two hills that bordered Huntington Beach, and the Wall was the main lookout over the city below. The vampire clan had resided there for many thousands of years.

Sucking on his bottom lip, The Rev scanned the strange lettering drawn on the page.

“I can’t read this.”

“Ancient runes? Only Werewolves and master vamps can read that.” Zachary shrugged again. The taller vampire snorted.

“I guess that means we give this to Matthew, then.”

“Guess so. It could be important.”

The Reverend grumbled.

“I’m 400 years older than him...”

“Yeah, but who the hell were the Sullivans?” Zachary smirked then ducked before the older vampire hit him. “Come on. Let’s find the master.”

They dematerialised from the wall and reappeared in the massive library at the western side of the manor. There they found Matthew lounging on a red velvet sofa going through a pile of ancient papers.

“Shadows...” Zachary cleared his throat. The master vampire glanced up from his reading.

“Yes?”

The younger vampire hesitated. The Rev rolled his eyes and strode forward holding the parchment out in front of him.

“We found this on the wall, Matt. Thought you might want to have a look at it.”

Matthew took the proffered piece of paper and scanned it.

“Where did it come from?”

“Well, Zachary thinks it might have come from that Werewolf we captured.”

Said vampire bobbed his head up and down, tugging at a lock of jet-black hair. Matthew waved a dismissive hand at them both as he read the words etched on the page. The two of them exited through the door leaving their leader in peace.

Matthew traced the letters translating them in his mind, but then he froze at the words written there and thrust the parchment away from him, vanishing from the library in a flash.

* * * * *

Synyster stood over Jonathan’s weak body. In human form, he looked almost sickly a grey tinge to his skin. Short black hair was spiked in every which direction and dull brown eyes remained unfocused due to the pain he was experiencing. He lay naked on the cold stone floor of the torture chamber, skin crawling, gooseflesh rising as he curled into himself trying to keep warm. Blood dripped from fresh wounds in his legs and torso and he shivered from the intense pain.

The vampire held a long knife in his left hand, tapping the bloodied blade against his left thigh. He’d just spent the last few hours slicing strips of skin from the prisoner’s body; the howls that had issued from the youngling’s throat still rang in his ears.

Smirking, Synyster sank onto his haunches and reached out to tilt Jonathan’s face up with the tip of the knife.

“Are you going to tell me the truth now, dog?”

Jonathan didn’t respond. He was too far-gone; he just wanted to die. He had no strength left. He trembled finding it difficult to breathe. The vampire growled and palmed the blade.

“I guess I should just kill you now then.”

He grabbed a hank of the youngling’s hair in his right fist and jerked his head back, exposing his pale throat. Jonathan whimpered, swallowing hard, fear evident in the taut lines of his body. Synyster brought the edge of the blade to caress along the jugular vein, staring down into the werewolf’s defeated gaze.

“Drop it, Haner!”

Matthew’s voice boomed along the corridor outside the torture chamber. Synyster released Jonathan’s hair and backed up still clutching the knife.

“Shadows...?”

Matthew hurtled into the damp chamber and skidded to a halt breathing hard, bracing his hands against his knees.

“Don’t...” He panted heavily. “Don’t...kill him...”

“What? But...we can’t let him live...if we let him go...”

Matthew snarled, “I never said I was going to release him.”

Synyster scowled. The master vampire stared hard at him as if daring him to challenge his authority.

“I’m taking him to Zachary, to have him patched up. Then I will decide his fate.”

The other vampire sneered.

“As long as it involves his death, I’ll be happy.”

Matthew just grunted and bent down to lift the barely conscious Were in his arms. Jonathan stirred weakly, eyelids fluttering, tiny whimpers of pain issuing from between parted lips. The master vampire didn’t bother to look at his lieutenant as he disappeared from the chamber, the werewolf cradled in his arms.

Synyster snarled in frustration and slammed his knife into the wall the blade snapping in half. Then he vanished after Matthew determined to make the master understand the importance of destroying every single Lycan that they captured: Including young Jonathan Seward.

* * * * *

“Youngling...I need you to change back to wolf form...”

Jonathan shivered and swallowed hard tears trickling down his face.

“Hurts too much...” His voice was hoarse. Zachary rubbed at his cheek, licking absently at a fang.

“You still need to change; otherwise I can’t clean those wounds properly.”

Matthew had brought the young Werewolf, still in human form, to Zachary’s chambers. The youngest vampire had been training to be a surgeon before he stopped physically aging. Therefore, he was the one any vampire in the compound brought their wounded to.

He pulled on some gloves, the slight snapping sound causing Jonathan to jump slightly. Zachary frowned.

“I’m not going to hurt you...” He turned critical green eyes to the master vampire who was leaning against the wall arms folded tight across his broad chest. “Shadows?”

Matthew’s lip lifted slightly.

“That’s debatable.”

“Well, I won’t hurt him much...” Zachary paused taking in the deep gashes in the youngling’s body. “I don’t think I could do any worse than Haner already has...”

Matthew grunted.

“True.”

The younger vamp shifted his gaze to the Werewolf’s brown eyes.

“Look I’ll turn my back if you need me to.”

Jonathan gave a tiny nod of his head.

“Please...”

Zachary turned so he was looking at the master vampire. Matthew cocked an eyebrow at him, smirking slightly.

Going soft?

No...it’s just a medical thing...anyway...you can talk, bringing him here for medical attention. You should’ve just left Syn to dispose of him.

Matthew response was a low guttural snarl. Zachary wisely made no response and just waited. The master vampire averted his gaze staring at a spot on the stone wall.

Jonathan allowed his body to relax then snarled softly as his body went through the change. The fur bristled along his body and he arched and groaned as his jaws lengthened. The last part of his form to change was the tail; it stretched out behind him then thudded loosely on the bench. His head lolled over the end and he snuffled weakly.

Hurts...

Zachary turned back around and looked upon the dark matted fur of the youngling. Blood was caked around the horrific wounds and it almost caused the vampire’s stomach to turn. Matthew pushed away from the wall and walked close to Jonathan’s head.

The Werewolf lifted a lip, showing his large canines. Matthew growled in warning reaching out to stroke fingertips over the Were’s fur covered throat. Jonathan panted, tongue hanging from his mouth. The master vampire stared into his deep brown eyes then glanced at Zachary.

“Think you can heal those wounds?”

The younger vampire sucked in a huge breath.

“I’ll do my best, master.”

Matthew dropped his hand.

“Good. Once you’re done, transfer him to my chambers.”

Zachary bowed slightly. Matthew vanished leaving him to do his work.

Noon

Matthew folded his arms glowering at Synyster as he paced in front of him.

“Have you forgotten, sir? They are our enemies and now you want to save this Lycan’s life? What is wrong with you, Matthew? What would your parents think?”

The master vampire snarled, “Do not drag them into this. They have long gone.”

Synyster swung around. “Perhaps your father should return and take over. You obviously do not know what you are doing.”

Matthew moved in a surge across the room, slamming the younger vampire against the wall, gripping his throat.

“You have no say in how I run things here, Brian. You’d do well to remember that I could easily kill you for your disrespect.”

Synyster stared balefully at him.

“Why do you care so much? He’s just a dog.”

Matthew growled and released the other vampire, backing up.

“That’s really none of your concern, Haner.”

“Of course it’s my concern, master.” He spat furiously. “I’m in charge of the troops. I’m in charge of ensuring the Werewolves do not destroy our way of life. You think it’s none of my concern. It’s always been my concern.”

Matthew shook his head remembering the words on the parchment, an alien emotion swirling deep in his usually stone cold heart.

“Not this time, Syn...” He sighed heavily and moved back to his throne, sinking down on it. “Just get out.”

“Shadows...”

“GET OUT!”

Matthew’s roar could be heard throughout the manor. It shook the building right to its foundations. Every person in the building shivered right to the core of their being at the terrifying sound.

Synyster bowed low and vanished in haste sensing that pushing the master vampire any further would most likely result in his death. He definitely would not do any justice to his cause if he were dead.

As soon as the Lieutenant had left the chamber, Zachary appeared with Jonathan in his arms. Matthew quickly rose from his seat and strode over to take the youngling in his arms. The youngest vampire couldn’t help but note the tender light in his master’s eyes, softness to his features, and wondered at it.

Yet, he made no comment and just said quietly, “He needs a lot of rest, Shadows...food and water too. And he needs to remain in wolf form.”

Matthew nodded, carrying the youngling over to the huge cashmere rug and laying him out on it. Then he sank down on his haunches by the Were’s head. Zachary hesitated. The master vampire glanced sharply at him, cold mask back in place.

“Leave us.”

Zachary bowed and disappeared without a sound.

Once they were alone, Matthew turned his attention to the Werewolf. Jonathan lay on his side the rise and fall of his flanks the only sign that he was alive. The vampire settled in a cross-legged position by the youngling’s head and gently stroked the fur between his ears. Biting his bottom lip the master vampire allowed a soft expression to settle on his features.

He had no idea how long he sat there for it could’ve been minutes; it could’ve been hours. He just stayed there watching silently over Jonathan’s recovering form. Zachary had done a good job on the wounds, healing those that weren’t too bad and stitching up the larger gashes on the Were’s sides.

Matthew knew that if he had left Jonathan with Synyster any longer the youngling would have been dead. Syn’s hatred for the Were race was deep and brutal. Many a Werewolf had been tortured and killed by the Lieutenant. Matthew licked a fang slowly and continued to stroke Jonathan’s fur, drifting deep into his thoughts.

Notes