Chapter 133

~~Antoinette~~

“There they are,” Elaine whispered.

Antoinette nodded, and took the binoculars from her. High up upon the enormous cathedral, the two elders watched the city, the streets beneath, and now the fleeing werewolves.

“Twelve,” Antoinette said. “They all live.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I am ... torn. Avery does not deserve death, nor does her pack. But they are a thorn in my side.”

“From what I hear, they think they are going to save the city.”

Antoinette sighed and shook her head. “Perhaps. But they will make enemies of us all doing so.”

The werewolves looked horrendous. Whatever Jack had done to them, assuming it was Jack, he had spared them, but he had also broken them, thoroughly. As hundreds of rats flowed out of the cathedral, hidden in the night and disappearing into the black of Dolareido, the twelve werewolves dragged themselves back toward their homes. Most lived near the Carthians, but Clara and Carter did not. And yet, despite their homes being in the entertainment district, they went with the pack, with Avery.

They no longer felt safe near the Invictus. That thin thread was now broken.

“Perhaps Maria is the one who injured them?” Elaine said. “She is quite the deadly woman, after all.”

“Rats flee the cathedral, by the thousands.” She handed the binoculars back.

Elaine took them, and Antoinette watched a smile slowly spread on the woman’s lips. “Impressive, to summon so many.”

“The curse is disgustingly powerful. And disgusting.”

Sighing, Elaine lowered the binoculars and met her eyes. “It was not all bad.”

“You remember such details?”

“I can remember ... the thrill of it, of the power. I can remember the sense of purpose and rage it gave me. But I never broke it free of its bindings. I could never do that.” She gestured far down below, underneath the gargoyle they stood upon, down to the scurrying lines of black that flowed over the gutters.

A glint of something crossed Elaine’s face. Envy, perhaps?

“You could do that now.”

“Not without great effort.” Sighing, she shook her head. “With the power of the curse unleashed, an elder vampire would be beyond formidable.”

Antoinette watched her friend for a while, reading the expressions Elaine felt comfortable surfacing. To summon an army, a legion of rodents, was indeed an impressive feat for a Ventrue of any age, let alone one as young as Jack. However...

“It would not be worth it, old friend. You have not spoken with the curse unleashed. I have. It is abhorrent, disturbing, and twisted.”

“Then, perhaps, my ignorance shall be alleviated tonight? The army of vermin, the fleeing werewolves, I surmise the curse shall step out of the cathedral any moment.”

Sighing, Antoinette nodded. In all likelihood, Jack had unleashed the curse once again tonight, and she was terrified to learn the results. The werewolves left the cathedral alive, something she would not expect the curse to do, but then, maybe the curse had the forethought to consider ramifications. Maybe, instead of thinking of the curse as a compressed vortex of rage and sickening tastes, she should think of it as a malevolent villain, quite capable of intelligent decisions.

The thought was beyond putrid.

They waited another ten minutes, but nothing came of it. Jack did not step out from the cathedral, and there was no ignoring the dreadful aura that emanated from the building. He lurked within.

After a frustrated groan, Antoinette hopped down from the cathedral rooftops, and landed before its grand doors. Once Elaine joined her, they pushed them in, stepping over the blood of the werewolves, and walked into the church.

She did not enjoy the cathedral’s presence. Not for lack of beauty; it was a marvelous structure. It had been built without her permission, Lucas testing the limits of his political power. But Lucas was gone, and the cathedral, forever a reminder of the fool and his delusions, was a testament to his failure. And Maria, the poor soul, was attached to it.

It was dark in the cathedral. Distant streetlights managed to penetrate the stained glass windows, but only just. The candles that usually dotted the nave and chancel were extinguished, and the towering organ looked monolithic in the darkness.

In the third row sat a young man, shirtless, with a dozen cuts on his skin, none deep. He sat leaning back, arms hooked over the back of the pew, his head looking to the crucifix that stood before the pulpit. On the pew in front of him sat two crows, perched upon its back, and turned to face their master.

The two birds looked to the approaching elders, and both let out annoyed caws as Antoinette and Elaine drew near.

“Jealous?” he asked.

Antoinette blinked, turned back to Elaine who only shrugged, before she looked back to Jack. “I am not sure I—”

“I was talking to Mulder and Scully, dumbass.”

Antoinette froze, five feet back from the pew Jack sat upon, and she clenched her hands until her nails threatened to pierce her palms. Again she glanced to Elaine, and found her friend’s eyes wide, locked onto Jack. The boy had proved Antoinette’s concern and disgust with his very first sentence.

“Maria and Damien are downstairs,” he said, “alive, but not looking too hot. Maria will be out of commission for a few weeks or more. Maybe months. Damien too. Avery really fucked them up.”

“And yet you did not kill them,” Antoinette said.

“Who, Avery? Nah. Coulda. Hell, I was tempted. But then I’d have this jackass screaming at me for the rest of eternity.” He pointed at his temple. “And burning bridges is never a good idea. Unless it’s a really big bridge that would burn spectacularly.”

The ambiguity on whether he meant a metaphorical bridge or not, did not sit well with her.

“Jack,” she said, “I—”

“Jack the Ripper.” He laughed again, reached out, and lightly scratched one crow behind the head, and then the other. “Everyone’s been thinking it. Might as well go with it.”

The Ripper. She grit her teeth and walked down the isle a little further, until she stood beside the pew her lover sat within. Of course, it was not her lover, but the curse that fought for control of his body. She would not dignify it with a name.

“Where is the necklace Elaine gave you?”

“Here.” He waved his right hand a little, before setting his arm along the back of the pew once more. “Still intact. Jack took it off when he saw shit was about to get hairy. Can’t fight a dozen werewolves with his Beast being squashed. And in the fight, he let his guard down, so I came out to play.” The following laugh had her gritting her teeth.

“I see.” She stepped a little further down the isle, so she could look the curse in the eye. But her eyes fell to his chest instead, and she took a slow, deep breath.

She could see his rib cage. Four enormous claw marks cut from his neck down to his stomach, and each left lines of burned flesh and ash along the outside of the wounds. His ribs had been cut through, as had his abdominal muscles. Kindred blood slowly pulsed within the wound, keeping his innards inside, but wounds of that caliber, wounds that looked to be caused by blades of fire, would take an elder days, perhaps weeks to heal, no matter the amount of devoured blood.

“Avery got me pretty good.” He chucked, gestured to his chest, and winked at her. “But I got her back.”

“You must be hungry,” Elaine said, joining Antoinette’s side. “Defeating a dozen werewolves and now recovering from those wounds will be draining.”

“Yeap. That reminds me, how’d it go with my new thrall?”

Antoinette could not keep a small frown from escaping. “Your taint does not poison her.” And she is not your thrall, demon.

“Ha! Shame. I was hoping it’d turn her into a super thrall or something.” He shrugged, and held out his hand sideways. One of the crows hopped onto his finger, and flapped its wings a few times, as Jack brought it in close.

“You were waiting for us,” Antoinette said.

“Jack sent you a message, right? Michael should be here soon, too. Probably with a bunch of ghouls and Kindred.” Shrugging again, he set the bird back on the pew in front of him. “I’ll be gone by then. Jack can handle the clean up.”

Antoinette nodded. “It is Invictus procedure, to deal with—”

“Not that clean up. I mean with Maria. She’ll ... well, she’ll be out for blood.” He laughed, a twisted, corrupt sound, and Antoinette’s spine shivered as if a ghost dragged its nails across her bones. “Garry’s gonna be pretty happy. I figure he gave Avery the nudge to actually attack Maria. Mission successful, sorta. Maria won’t be defending shit for a little while, which means Garry’s gonna go on the offensive. And you know Michael’s gonna have Jack front and center dealing with it.”

Antoinette grit her teeth and looked to Elaine. Her friend stared at Jack, eyes occasionally drifting to the two crows, before she looked to Antoinette. The curse was correct. Garry and Michael had been pushing at each other’s borders for months now, skirmishes, occasional gunfights, and far worse, economic warfare between Xnomina and Terra Den.

That was their prerogative. Antoinette enforced the Masquerade in her city, but if the Invictus and the Carthians decided to slaughter each other, that was not her concern. If they crossed a line and brought the attention of the kine, then it was. But she had no stake in either covenant, at least, not before she met Jack.

“And you,” Jack said, and he snapped his head to look at Elaine. The sneer on his face turned Antoinette’s stomach. “You might have abandoned the gift you were given, but a lot can happen in hundreds of years. I won’t let you kill me, great grandsire. And I won’t let you have me, either.”

“Have you? I—”

Jack waved her off, like dismissing a child, and he looked past them to the crucifix beyond. “Christ, that fight drained me. Won’t be long before Jack takes over again. And the meditation, this stupid necklace”—he waved the small thing in his right hand around—”it all works. Shuts me right up. Problem is, Jack isn’t good enough to handle the shitshows coming his way, and he knows it. He’ll rely on me again, like he relied on me tonight.”

“He does not need you,” Antoinette said.

“Yeah, he does. And if someone finally manages to remove me or kill me, someone’s gonna kill him.” Laughing again, he looked down at the necklace in his hand, and slipped it on around his neck. “Good luck.”

His head lowered, and the boy drifted into torpor. Elaine and Antoinette exchanged glances once again, before looking to the birds. Mulder and Scully sat, and waited, and only when the boy raised his head once again did they caw a greeting.

The boy blinked at the two birds, then at Antoinette and Elaine, and then down at his chest.

“Holy shit this hurts.” He clutched his arm over his chest and groaned. “Fucking fuck this hurts.”

Sighing with relief, Antoinette sat down beside her love, and touched his shoulder. “Avery was a terror when she first visited the city, decades ago. Now she is a force to be reckoned with, I am sure.”

“You’re telling me. I knew she could do some crazy shit, but sweet fucking...” He reached out for her shoulder and clutched it tight. “Can we get out of here? I need to get away from here, from Maria. Need a drink, and sleep.”

“Yes, of course. But why flee Maria? She owes you her life.”

He shook his head desperately, and forced himself to stand. The shifting crunch of his broken bones, held together only by his dark blood swirling within his chest cavity, looked excruciating. How had the curse held a conversation as if pain did not bother it? For an elder to ignore pain was easy. For a neonate, it was nothing of the sort.

“She ... she knows.”

“Knows? I—”

“She knows, about Lucas.”

Antoinette frowned as she helped the boy out into the isle. Caws announced the two crows taking flight, and they found perches above to watch as Antoinette guided Jack out of the church.

Naturally, a dozen Kindred stood outside, Invictus, along with a dozen ghouls or thralls. Everyone was armed, swords, knives, shotguns, assault rifles, only weapons that could do damage to a werewolf. No Michael to be seen, though. Perhaps Damien had contacted him.

“Twenty three suits,” Elaine said with a grin. “But you are late. The werewolves are gone, and Maria and Damien need treatment. They await below.”

The vampires and ghouls looked at each other, and then to Jack. And waited.

“Sir?” one of the Kindred asked, stepping closer to the Invictus Right Hand.

Groaning and clutching his stomach, other arm wrapped over Antoinette’s shoulders, he gestured to the church nave behind them.

“Elaine’s right. Get in there and talk to Matthias. Get in a crew for clean up, and get Maria and Damien something to drink. They’re in worse shape than me.”

Several of the ghouls gulped at that.

“Yes sir.” Nodding, the crew rushed past.

As they did, two crows flew out through the open doors and perched upon a nearby gargoyle. Jack’s friends, and protective little creatures. Sometimes they joined her in her tower, and she had a feeling they would again tonight.

“Sir,” one of the Kindred said, and she stopped in front of them. “Do you want a drive back to your home, sir?”

“The apartment isn’t saf—oh, right, the mansion.” He groaned again and let his head drop.

“I think Mister Terry would prefer to stay with me this day,” Antoinette said, earning the nervous gaze of the young vampire.

“Y-Yeah.” Jack nodded, and managed a dismissing wave with his free hand. “Mister McDonald will get a proper report tomorrow night. In the mean time, notify him that the Carthians are going to be a problem.”

“Yes, Mister Terry.” She nodded, and followed the others into the cathedral as she pulled out her phone.

Maria knew where the mansion was, and if Jack spoke truly that she knew the boy was responsible for Lucas’s death, it was not entirely safe. If Jack slept within its depths in a secure room, it would be, but that did not mean the Nosferatu would not see the mansion burned atop him, and leave him a surprise gift upon awakening: explosives, and mountains of them.

Once the boy had the ghouls and thralls to defend his territory, he could play the game, but until then, he was vulnerable. The curse had a point.

But, the curse failed to understand something about people. Not everyone was cynical, and full of rage. Not everyone was bound to an endless cycle of destruction. The curse likely thought Maria would come for Jack, a slave to her emotions, and willing to sacrifice everything for them. But Antoinette knew better.

She would protect her love for the moment, in case she was wrong. But come tomorrow night, she would have a chat with Maria Turio, and see if her suspicions were true.

~~Beatrice~~

“Holy shit,” she said.

“Holy shit indeed,” Jacob said.

The two of them sat on a nearby roof, low, and both pulled out their best Cloak of Night. Elaine and Antoinette were near, on the cathedral’s roof, and if Triss and Jacob weren’t careful, they’d be spotted. Jacob figured the sheriff wasn’t around if those two were together, but even if that was true, those two were elders. Just cause they didn’t have Auspex didn’t mean they couldn’t spot them.

Jacob’s Cloak of Night was infinitely better than hers. It felt like wearing an ocean of darkness, compared to her, a pond. Hell, like this, she could walk right up to Joe and punch him in his stupid face and he wouldn’t see it coming.

Beneath them, a dozen people walked past. She recognized every one of them. Uratha. And they were beat to fucking shit. Soaked in blood, holes all over them, and one of them was missing an arm. Holy mother fucking shit Clara was missing an arm. And the smallest person in the group, Avery, barely had a face anymore.

“Jack ... Jack wouldn’t do that.”

“Nope. The curse did that.” Jacob chuckled, barely more than a whisper, and pat her on the shoulder. “But they’re all alive. Damn.”

“You were really hoping Jack would kill some of them, weren’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Did ... did you know this was happening tonight?”

The elder Nosferatu grinned at her, looked below, and didn’t answer. Which was an answer itself. He knew. He fucking knew Avery was going to attack Maria tonight. He knew Jack would be in his ritual room while it was happening, and immediately make a dash for the cathedral when he left. Maybe he hoped Jack would be too late, and Maria would be dead or something.

The fucker arranged for Jack’s meeting with Black Blood, to happen tonight, so this shit show would happen without his interference, or at least delay it. And most importantly, he’d probably been banking on the curse killing some of them.

“Jacob, you are a giant, fucking colossal asshole.”

“I know, right?” He chuckled again, and gestured down to the werewolves walking past. “I could kill them, right now. I could jump down and end their fucking lives. I’d kill everyone except Avery, at first. But then I’d Kiss her, and drain her nice and slow, make her enjoy it, so her last moments were filled with self loathing.”

“Dude, you need to let this go.”

That, was dumb. Jacob snapped his bandage-covered eyes toward her, and slowly, he withdrew his hand from her shoulder.

“You had your revenge, Triss. I haven’t.”

“And you know it’s not the same. Jeremiah and Angela were fucking insane.” Christ, just saying Angela’s name filled her with rage. Then remorse, and frustratingly, guilt. “And they would have killed us all if they got the chance. Avery’s just trying to help.”

Sighing, the man shook his head. “Don’t give me that shit you little fucker. You killed her for revenge and no other reason. And for all your tiny little brain can manage, it can’t understand the larger picture here. You don’t get to rationalize bullshit. You don’t get to dismiss an action, because it fucking fits your world view at the time.”

“I—”

Jacob’s grip found her throat, and she froze, staring at him, as the man held her second life in his hands. “Listen to me, and listen closely, young witch. Rules, ideals, morality, these are inventions. People made them up. There are no good guys, no bad guys, no villains or heroes. There is no God in the sky telling us what we should or shouldn’t do, and no permeating energy in the universe guiding us onto a path of zen and inner peace. There’s only one fucking thing in this whole god damn plane of existence that’s real, and that’s the actions we take.” One hand still holding her throat, he pointed at his temple with the other. “You’ll never be a true witch until you understand that. All that matters, the only thing with any meaning or value, are actions. Say what you want, think what you want, rationalize, appeal to whatever god or morality you want, none of it matters. The only thing that fucking matters, is what you do, or don’t do. And Avery took something away from me that I can never, ever replace.” He leaned in closer, and tightened his grip. “Do you really think you can convince me, that I shouldn’t get my revenge?”

He let go, and turned his head back down toward the werewolves. Even with the speech, his Cloak was perfect.

“I ... I guess I can’t.” Sighing, she looked at the street as well, and furrowed her brow as rats poured out of the cathedral. Barely visible from a distance, the tiny, dark bodies disappeared into Dolareido, vanishing into dark corners, gutters, and a million crevices the city provided them. “But, it’s not all that shit I was thinking about, dude. I was ... thinking about you.”

Jacob said nothing, face still pointed to the street below, but his usual jackass smile was gone. She had to be careful.

“I mean, I don’t think you’ll be happy if you kill Avery, you know? Cause, yeah, anarchy and nihilism and all that, but I don’t think you could ever be happy being a fucking killer. I mean, you are, but not that kind of killer. Avery’s just trying to save lives and shit. And ... and you seem pretty happy with Samantha. Right?”

Using the Samantha word managed to make him wince, if only a little. For all the crazy sex Jacob and Samantha had, to the point every witch had seen the woman naked and cumming by now, there was more to their relationship than mindless sex. Sometimes they went into his alcove, and came out a few hours later, no sex had. A few hours, talking. Clearly they had some sort of connection.

“I like her, Triss. I like her a lot. But I’m not going to abandon my plans because of...” Sighing again, he crouched lower on the ceiling as Antoinette and Elaine jumped down from the cathedral, and walked inside. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. If I killed Avery now, people would blame this on me.” He gestured to the church, implying whatever it was Maria was up to. “Avery can wait.”

Triss nodded, and made damn well sure to not ask about what the fuck he meant by plans. Old as the bastard was, he probably had a dozen plans in motion at any given time, some of them probably decades, even centuries old. Better she didn’t stick her nose into shit; it might get stuck.

“Think Jack’s alive?” she asked.

“Overheard the wolves say he was. Maria and Damien too.”

“Really?” Damn, fucker was multi-talented to overhear that.

“Yeap. They injured the both of them, badly. They’ll all be out of commission for weeks, maybe months.”

“Daaaamn.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. For Maria to be seriously injured was a big deal. Yeah sure, Damen too, quick little fuck, but Maria was a force. Everyone was terrified of that bitch and her mastery of Nightmare. If they hurt her and Damien badly, then the Lancea et Sanctum was out of commission for a while. Which meant...

“Jacob?” she asked.

“Yeap. Now that Maria’s out of the picture, Garry’s going to push on the Invictus. He’ll strike while the iron’s hot.” Grinning, Jacob got up, and jumped away, back toward their cave.

“The fuck? Wait for me!”

~~Eric~~

Garry’s phone buzzed, and he checked it. The frown on his face said it all. Whatever had happened hadn’t gone exactly the way he wanted, but not as bad as it could have gone for him, either.

“Alright, get out of here,” he said, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

Jessy, still cradling her busted jaw, gave the man the finger. She’d managed to get the jaw back in place, and her vitae or whatever was doing work to keep the bones together, but she didn’t want to risk fucking it up more by talking yet.

“The fuck happened?” Eric asked.

“Go ask Avery about it. Or Jessy, once she gets debriefed.” He shrugged, leaned back against the sill, and sighed. “That Jack, he’s a real fucking problem, you know that?”

“Jack? You mean the curse?”

“Yeah, the fucking curse. Jack’s gonna kill someone at this rate. Someone he wouldn’t want to kill.”

“Wha—”

“I said get out of here.” Garry dismissed him with a hand wave, and a half dozen vampires pointed their guns at Eric.

Sighing, Eric and Jessy got up, and did as ordered. No one shot them in the back, or stopped them from leaving. They just walked out, and it was like nothing happened.

Snarling, Jessy pulled out her phone, and her eyes went wide. “Holy shit!” And of course, the talking was quickly followed by a groan of pain.

“Don’t talk. We should have your jaw in a sling.”

“It’ll heal by tomorrow night,” she whispered, slurring her words together so she barely moved her mouth. Healed by tomorrow, sure, but aching and fucked up for days. Sighing and groaning, she stared into her phone and texted something in it before showing it to him.

Tash’s, ASAP.

Jessy opened the door with her key, and they stepped into Natasha’s apartment. Clean, a lot of function over fashion. Very Natasha.

“Natasha?” he yelled. “Hey, it’s Jessy and Eric.” No answer.

Jessy grumbled and stomped forward, immediately regretted stomping and hurting her jaw, and instead gently walked her way around the apartment.

Eric sniffed the air, but it was hard to smell Tash. Not cause he couldn’t smell vampire, he could, plenty, but vampires didn’t smell very different from each other. Hints of ash and dust and not much else. But he followed what he could smell, and did his best to ignore Jessy’s scent as he drifted toward the bedroom.

Oh shit.

“Jessy, she’s in here.”

Jessy came in after him, groaned, and sat down on the bed beside her. A stake stuck out from her heart, a classic wooden stake, though thin, and shiny. Laminated? Whatever it was, it didn’t smell like wood. Smelled like nothing.

Without ceremony, Jessy yanked out the stake and threw it away, hard. It dented the wall before it bounced on the hardwood floor.

Eric stood beside her, and waited. He’d have to do the talking for Jessy.

Natasha sat up with a jolt, and Eric tensed like someone had just thrown a bomb into the room. Guess they woke up from a staking the same way they woke up come dusk: violently.

“What, w-what’s going on!?” Natasha spun around on the bed, and Jessy ducked her head back seamlessly, dodging a near backhand to the face. “Jessy? Eric? I—”

Eric put up his hands. “Calm down. You’re in your apartment. We just pulled a stake out of you.” Sighing, he picked up the stake and showed it to her. “Sunrise isn’t far off.”

She stared at him like he’d just explained the world was ending. But slowly, her eyes drifted between him, the stake in his hand, and Jessy, still at her side.

“Jessy, you—”

“Her jaw is broken. She’s trying to avoid talking.”

“Yeah,” Jessy whispered, wincing as she did. “You ok?”

“I ... I’m fine, I guess. I...” Her eyes fell, and she stared at the bed. From looking like a surprise apocalypse had hit, to looking like her heart had just been ripped out by her boyfriends, was—oh shit.

“The boys did this to you?” he asked.

Natasha winced, and scrunched up the bed sheets in her hands. Slowly, she pulled them up to herself, half covering her legs, and she buried her face in them as they pulled over her knees.

“The ... the p-p-pack went to confront Maria.”

“Jessy shared some details with me on the way here,” he said. “Apparently, Damien sent out an alert when they arrived.”

“He was there?” she asked, lifting her head from her blanket and knees.

“Yeah. Jessy got the message, but we couldn’t do anything about it. Garry had us locked up.”

“W-Wh—”

Eric held up a hand. “Jessy will fill you in. But yeah, Garry wanted us out of the way while Avery dealt with Maria. Was hoping Avery and the gang would kill her, I suppose.”

“But she didn’t?”

“No. According to what Damien’s told Jessy in the past ten minutes, the werewolves kicked their asses, pretty badly. It was looking bad, but then Jack ... Jack showed up.” The room went silent. If Eric didn’t know better, he’d figure the temperature of the room dropped, cause he sure as hell felt ice prickling his skin. “Is he really that bad?” he asked. “I mean yeah, Jessy and I found him dealing with that ... giant ... spider monster ... solo.” Dumb question.

Jessy nodded, slow, and not because of the pain in her jaw.

“I ... I haven’t seen him cut loose myself,” Tash said, “b-but Antoinette and Elaine think he’s dangerous. Super dangerous. And you mean he, um, d-did that ... to Avery?”

“Nearly killed her and everyone else in the pack,” he said. That was probably not the best way to word it. Natasha looked at him, eyes so wide he could see the white around them, and he put up his hands. “Nearly. No one died.”

The relief on her was blatant. “Good.”

“Good?” he asked. “Because of Arturo and Matthew? They’re the ones that staked you.”

She nodded. “It was Avery’s order. She t-texted Arturo something, and they were leaving, and then he ... he got me.”

“I mean, I get that it’s not deadly to a vampire. But still, I figured you’d be—”

“I am angry,” she said, voice a lot steadier than he’d ever heard it. “I am. W-With Avery, and the boys. But ... not as angry as the Prince will be.”

Stupid idea? Stupid idea. His life in a nutshell.

Sighing, he walked back into the apartment building, back up the stairs, back down the hallway, and back up to Avery’s door. A small knock and a few seconds later, he was in the apartment with a dozen werewolves. No Garry, and no other vampires with guns this time either.

The pack looked like shit. For a second, he’d thought they’d gotten into a fight with a swarm of killer bees, considering every one of them was covered in red welts. But they weren’t welts, they were holes, many of them still bleeding. Bite marks?

It didn’t stop there. Broken limbs, broken fingers, gashes, giant bruises, the works. The whole group had been thoroughly trashed. Some of them looked on the verge of tears as they sat around, licking their wounds; metaphorically.

“Holy shit,” he said. “I—” Words stopped, and he stared hard at Clara, and her one arm.

She looked away and shook her head. “It’ll grow back. In ... in time. A month ... or two.”