Same Day

Lachelle’s Apartment

2 PM

Pat leaned against the kitchen counter watching as Lachelle went around checking that everything was as she remembered before she left for Toronto. She hesitated by Delilah’s food bowl, touching it lightly.

“Must go pick her up from my sister’s...” She murmured quietly to herself.

The expression on her face seemed haunted. Pat didn’t blame her; she was still obviously reeling from what had happened at the Bouvier’s place. Finally, she came back into the kitchen and looked at Pat, the look in her eyes strained, anxious.

Pat gave a small smile. “So...glad to be home?”

Lachelle fiddled with the knob on one of the kitchen drawers not meeting his gaze. “Yeah, I guess so. Toronto, doesn’t feel the same...y’know?”

“Yeah. I know how you mean.” Small talk, not something Pat was good at, at all. He cleared his throat nervously. “So, um...” He scratched at his cheek absently.

Lachelle wasn’t looking at him and that made it extremely difficult for him to read what she was thinking, or feeling.

He drew in a steadying breath, and then blew out slowly. “So,” he repeated numbly. “About...Pierre...”

Lachelle finally looked at him, hazel eyes wet. “Vampires aren’t real, Patrick.” Her tone was hard belying the hurt and disbelief in her eyes. “They’re just fucking fairytales.”

Pat blinked at the swear word. “Chelle...” There was nothing he could say. How did you convince someone that what he or she thought were just little fantasies were in fact as real as the solid ground they walked?

She glared at him. “That’s all. Figments of our imagination.”

“He bit you...” Pat said, lamely.

“So? Doesn’t make him a...vampire...”

“Chelle...his teeth...”

She shook her head. “I was imagining things.”

Pat bit his bottom lip hard, staring at her wondering how in Hell he was going to make her believe him.

Change.

What? No.

Do it, Patrick.

No, Dad. That won’t solve anything...it’ll probably freak her out.

Do. It. This is not a request, Langlois.

But...

Patrick C Langlois, Lachelle needs to believe...Pierre will need her by his side. Do. It. Now.

All right. I will. Jesus...

“Pat?”

He blinked as she waved a hand in front of his face. “Uh?”

“You spaced out on me, you alright?”

Pat nodded slowly. “Um, sure...look, Chelle, I need to show you something.”

Lachelle tilted her head to the side some of her blonde hair falling across her face. “What’s that?”

Pat sucked at his teeth. “I gotta do this in the living room.”

“Do what, Pat?” She was confused.

Pat just grimaced, turned, and walked out of the kitchen, into the narrow hallway, crossing into the living room. Lachelle followed her expression becoming even more bemused as he pulled the sofa away from the centre of the room. Then he pushed the coffee table under the windowsill and turned to face her.

“Pat, what are you doing?”

He took another deep breath and stared directly into her eyes. Shadows moved in his own eyes; Lachelle felt a tingle race down her spine. She brought her hands up to rub at her arms as a shiver caused gooseflesh to rise.

“Pat?” Her voice dropped to a mere quizzical whisper.

He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Just watch me, Lachelle.”

Lachelle frowned wondering what her friend was doing, but then something began happening to his body. He let out a low growl that began to rumble in his chest and build as he sank to his haunches. Tugging at his shirt he pulled it away as fur began to sprout across his back, chest, all over.

Her eyes widened, but she was unable to tear her gaze away as his body twisted and he stretched his arms out in front of him, legs behind him, muscles, bones, skin, shifting and changing. The final parts of his body to change were his face and the tail that pushed out behind him.

The sound of bone, twisting and cracking as they changed length and position, sent chills through her body.

Lachelle backed up and pressed against the wall, her knees feeling as if they would give out beneath her. “Pat...?”

She squeezed her eyes shut then after several more minutes, opened them and peered out between her knees. She found herself staring at the large animal that now stood in the man’s place. It looked like a wolf, except that it was much, much larger than any wolf she’d ever laid eyes on. His fur was dark over his back and flanks, a tawny-red colouring on his legs, underbelly and the backs of his ears. His face was a tawny-grey, the muzzle a light reddish brown.

Lachelle slid down the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees. The wolf, Pat, padded close to her and lay down at her feet, propping his head on top of his paws.

Then he shifted and leaned forward, nudging his muzzle against her legs. Chelle...

She bit her lip, rubbing at her eyes. “Pat...what...?”

Werewolf...I was born like this...I’m real...you know that I’m real.

Lachelle hugged her upper body tight, drawing her knees closer to her body. He followed her movement and nudged at her legs again.

“Damn it...” She buried her face against her knees her next words muffled. “He really is a vampire then...isn’t he?”

Silently, Pat gave thanks to his father that the change had worked, and then nodded, giving a tiny yip of affirmation. Yes. He is.

Lachelle sighed deeply and wiped a hand across her eyes. “I...should talk to him, eh?”

Pat yipped again. Yes.

She exhaled harshly. “What if he won’t talk to me?”

He will. He loves you. He...he didn’t mean to hurt you. He...just...needed to feed.

Lachelle hesitated before laying a hand in Pat’s scruff; the fur there was thick, rough, yet soft at the same time. “Wow...” There was a hint of awe in her voice. Apprehension laced the tone; however, she was calmer than she had been moments earlier. “You’re so...soft...”

Pat gave a small whine and turned to nudge his wet nose against her hand.

She absently patted at his head then she got to her feet and raked fingers through her long hair. “You going to...stay like that?”

Pat yipped again. Nah...I’ll change back now, just um...I’ll go to the bathroom, could you bring my clothes?

Lachelle giggled understanding instantly why he asked. “Don’t tell me you’re naked when you change back?”

Uh...yeah...I haven’t managed to perfect that...some Were’s can change back clothes and all...I’m not so good at that.

“Okay.” She bent down and picked up his T-shirt and jeans, following him to the bathroom. He padded inside; she walked in and put his clothes on the vanity then slipped out and went back to the kitchen, giving him some privacy.

Ten minutes later, Pat entered the kitchen tugging the hem of his T-shirt down and smoothing his hands over his hair. Lachelle sat at the kitchen counter a glass of orange juice sitting in front of her.

He smiled faintly at her. “How’re you feeling now?”

She shrugged a little. “Still a little overwhelmed.”

Pat nodded sitting opposite her. “I don’t blame you. It is all kind of shocking.”

Lachelle took several slow breaths. “So, I was thinking...I might wait to talk to Pierre...”

“Wait?”

She looked down into her juice not meeting his quizzical gaze. “I...I’m not ready to...talk to him. I need to get my head around it first.”

Pat leaned over the counter and took one of her hands in his, squeezing tenderly. “That’s understandable...but you can’t leave it too long...the guys leave on their Canadian tour in over a week...”

Lachelle nodded meeting his understanding gaze. “I’ll...go over tomorrow...maybe...or Wednesday.”

Pat gave her hand one more squeezed the released it, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’ll go keep him company then, shall I?”

She smiled weakly. “Sure...you’re a good friend to him.”

He shrugged. “No big deal.”

Lachelle nodded, then hesitantly reached over to hug him around the shoulders. “Thanks for bringing me home, Pat.”

Pat smiled squeezing her shoulders lightly. “You’re welcome...I’ll let myself out.”

She nodded again and smiled watching as he walked out, murmuring a soft goodbye.

Bouvier Residence

3 PM

“Pierre? Hunny...are you okay?”

Louise had been in the kitchen when Pat and Lachelle had left the house and she wondered why her younger son had not seen his fiancée out. Of course, she was in the middle of preparing a meal for dinner, so she finished with that. Then she went to his room to see whether something was wrong. She knocked on his door and peered around the frame, a questioning expression on her face.

“Pierre?” She repeated his name as she saw him sitting by the window, staring out across the front lawn, deep in thought.

He dragged his mind from whatever thought he was concentrating on and turned his head slightly to look at her. “Huh?”

“Is something the matter?”

Pierre took a deep breath and just stared at her for a long time, then he grimaced standing and walking toward her. “When does Dad get home?” He didn’t answer her question, asking one of his own instead.

Louise scratched her chin. “He should be home in a few minutes. Why? What’s wrong?”

Pierre bit at his cheek lightly, tongue flickering absently against his fangs. “I need to talk to both of you about something...” His tone was distant as was the look in his dark eyes.

Louise started to become anxious. “Pierre, hun...please...tell me...what’s wrong.”

He didn’t answer brushing passed her out into the hallway. She followed him as he strode down the corridor and into the living room. Hesitating in the doorway, Louise watched as Pierre walked over to the fireplace and stood with his back to her arms folded across his chest, chin tucked into his chest. She could see the tension in his broad shoulders, in the way he held his body with his legs spread slightly.

“Pierre?”

He didn’t turn around, but he did say softly, “When Dad gets home, Mom...”

Louise sighed and turned to walk to the front door. She opened it and leaned against the doorframe staring down the front driveway. Just as she thought she couldn’t handle it any longer and that she should go and insist that Pierre tell her what was wrong, the soft put-put of Rèal’s old van reached her ears.

She wiped her hands on the apron she still had tied around her waist and watched gratefully as he husband stepped out of his van and came toward her.

He tilted his head and frowned when he recognised the anxious look in her eyes. “Lou? What’s wrong? Is something wrong?”

Louise struggled to find an answer, finally just shaking her head. “Our...son...”

“What? Is it Jay...is it-”

“No, Jay is fine. It’s not him...it’s Pierre. He’s in the living room waiting for you...and me.”

Rèal lifted an eyebrow as he entered the house setting his bag down in the hallway. “What for?”

“He says he needs to talk to us about something.” She wrung her hands together. “I’ve never seen him like this before...do you think it’s about-?”

Rèal caught hold of her hands, halting her words, and squeezed them reassuringly. “Calm, Lou...be calm. He’ll tell us, whatever it is...and we’ll get through it like we always do, okay, Cherie? Just like when the doctor told us about Jay’s cancer...”

Louise nodded, letting her husband lead her back to the living room.

“Son?” Rèal announced their entrance.

Pierre turned to face them. His face was carefully expressionless the only sign of emotion flickering in his eyes. “Mom, Dad...I...need to talk to you.”

Rèal moved to sit on the sofa; Louise sat next to him. Pierre leaned back against the fireplace, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

“What is it, son?” He asked, even though he had a weird feeling he knew what his son wanted to talk to them about. However, he would let Pierre be the one to put voice to the question.

Pierre shifted on his feet looking down at the floor. He knew that what he was about to ask would be difficult and he had no clue how to say it without sounding abrupt, rude, and even uncaring. Yet, ever since finding out that he was a vampire one single thought had been niggling furiously at his mind and he needed to do something to get rid of it.

Biting at his tongue, he took several deep breaths before finally finding the courage to ask the question. “I’ve been thinking about my birthday. And...how you said I was so...big for such an early birth.”

Louise stiffened slightly, biting at her own tongue.

Rèal leaned forward frowning slightly. “You were just a big baby-” he started to say.

Pierre cut him off. “No. I wasn’t.” He sighed pulling one hand from his pocket and smearing it over his face. “Look, I’m 29...I think it’s time you told me the truth.”

“The truth?” Rèal wondered, vaguely, how Pierre figured that his birth story had been a lie, and then decided that pursuing that avenue of thought would not be worth the headache.

Pierre nodded curtly. “Yes. Because you’re not my real parents, are you?”

Rèal stared hard at Pierre, wondering how long he could hold off. “We are your parents. We brought you up.”

Pierre’s jaw tightened. “But, I’m not your biological son. You have Jon and Jay for that.”

His father stood and glared at him; he wasn’t willing to give in, not without trying to fend off the inevitable. “Where the hell is this coming from, Pierre? We are your parents.”

“No.” Pierre’s voice was hard. “You can’t be.”

He looked away unable to stand the pain he could see in Louise’s eyes. He could feel her pain as well; it was beginning to throb in his heart. He forced it out and focussed on a stain on the carpet.

“What do you mean?” Rèal spoke softly, in a way that would normally have warned Pierre that he was treading on thin ice. It always worked when he was a child. However, Pierre didn’t respond to the underlying tone, instead, he hissed slightly, lip curling ever so little the very tips of his fangs showing.

Louise gasped, eyes widening, but Rèal didn’t flinch. “Ahh...” He let out a long weary sigh, finally relenting and sinking back down on the sofa. “Pierre...” All of a sudden he just sounded sad a sorrowful expression in his deep hazel eyes.

Pierre let his lip relax and tilted his head. “Dad?”

Rèal smoothed his hands over his white hair and looked at him. “I’m sorry, Pierre...I didn’t think that...I didn’t want to believe...” He shook his head. “You were abandoned on our front doorstep...barely a few days old...”

Pierre swallowed hard and sank down to sit on the floor. He nodded for Rèal to continue.

“Your mother left a letter attached to your carrier.” He laughed roughly. “It said that you were...in danger and that she was too and that she could not keep you because the man...who is your real father, would be after her.”

“Do you still have the letter?”

“Yes. It’s in the locked drawer in the study. I’ll go get it for you.”

Pierre bit his lip. “Could you give it to me just before we go on tour?”

Rèal nodded slowly, not questioning his reasoning. “Of course. Anyway,” he went on, “You were a very quiet baby...we took you in. Obviously.” He smiled remembering something. “Jon wanted to know what was going on...he was all excited about having another little brother. Jay wasn’t as interested. But, y’know...he was 2 years old, all he cared about was where he was going to get his next feed. You were the same actually...”

He paused then continued, “There was something different about you...that I could never put my finger on...but when you were six months old, you were teething and weren’t very well, we took you to see a doctor who told us that you were a vampire.”

“What? Straight out? Just like that?” Pierre was incredulous. “I guess you didn’t believe him?”

Rèal shook his head. “Your mother...” He glanced sideways at Louise who was just staying quiet, listening. “Lou, wouldn’t have a bar of it. I believed though...deep down. Because, it explained a lot of things.”

“Like?” Pierre gave his dad a curious look.

“You were growing very quickly...at six months you were as big as Jay had been at one. And you could already talk.”

Pierre shivered. “That is a little unusual...”

“Indeed. So, now it’s all happening.” Rèal sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to say really, son...”

“That’s okay...” Pierre rubbed at his face. “Oh...did...the letter say who my...birth mother is?”

Louise spoke up then her voice soft, “Serena. She didn’t leave a last name.”

“And...my father?”

“No idea. She didn’t mention any names.”

Rèal scowled. “She only said that he was a dangerous man and that he would be after her.”

Pierre stretched his neck muscles. “Sounds like a criminal or something.”

“Perhaps. Anyway, I guess that answers your question.”

There was a tense silence for a long moment and then Pierre burst out laughing. “Damn, Dad...I wasn’t expecting any of that.”

Louise smiled faintly; Rèal smirked. “It’s amazing what comes up in conversation, eh, son?”

Standing, Pierre smirked in response. “Yeah, true that.” He walked toward Louise and held his arms open to her, his smile softening. “C’mere, Mom...I do love you, you know?”

She smiled and stood going into his arms wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him close. “I know...I know...I love you too, sweetie.”

Pierre stood holding her close, rocking her gently.

Rèal stepped close to them and patted Pierre’s shoulder. “You’re a good boy, Pierre. You make your Mom and me very proud.”

The vampire went slightly pink and ducked his head down, breathing in deeply. The scent filling his nostrils was sweet like honey.

He shivered squeezing Louise gently then he stepped back. “I...um...need to go.” He paused. “I’ll be home for dinner...”

Louise opened her mouth to ask him where he was going, but her husband stopped her, shaking his head slowly. Pierre nodded gratefully to his dad then turned and walked out of the living room.

Notes