The wind blew through Bane’s tangled—medium dark green—hair and kissed his face with white crystal snowflakes that fell in a graceful rhythm from the dark night sky, mixing nicely with the already icy white layer of snow that blanketed the ground. It was as vibrant as a white rose.
The temperature was well below freezing, and if Bane were still human his bones would be aching and his teeth would be chattering from the cold.
“Are we really going to do this?” Sabra Marxx asked. “It doesn’t seem like that much of a big deal.”
Bane scoffed, putting his hands in the pockets of his black trench coat—out of habit—and said, “Yeah. It is. I want to make them pay for the lives they took. None of them deserved to die. The degenerates broke the law trespassing onto our land and killing members of my Clan. They deserve what they have coming to them.”
Sabra rolled her crimson red eyes and swiped her tongue over her teeth. “I think it’s childish. You have a Clan to lead, and ‘the big bad wolf’, Derren has a Pack to run. See what I’m getting at here? You both have responsibilities and what if the Council finds out, about this,” she reasoned.
“I don’t care if they find out,” Bane seethed. “He broke the laws of the Peace Entente, and we all—vampires, werewolves, faeries, and other creatures alike—signed, promising to abide by them. They weren’t supposed to trespass on our land unless they were authorized to or invited and they weren’t,” he said, a scowl plastered on his face, and his eyes were slit into a piercing gaze. His tan olive skin looked paler than usual, because of the snow, but he still had a menacing look to him. “I could have easily turned a blind eyes to the trespassing, but he and his Pack killing members of my Clan is simply unforgivable.”
“Then report it to the Council,” replied Sabra.
Bane shook his head. “No. They wouldn’t do anything about it. But I will.”
An unreadable expression crossed over Sabra’s pale skin for a few seconds and then it was gone. “You expect us to fight a Pack of wolves by ourselves?” she questioned. “We may be vampires, Bane, but we’re not invincible.”
“The others are in the trees,” said Bane. “Waiting.”
Sabra looked around, and sure enough, she could see the rest of the Clan perched in the branches high up in the trees, ready for a fight. “Of course they are,” she said, in mock disbelief. “At least you’re thinking ahead of time.”
“I do more thinking than any other person in the Clan. I have to because I’m responsible for each and every one of you,” was his response. “Derren is a sadistic prick, who kills for the sake of enjoyment. But he won’t get away with it. Not this time.”
Sabra opened her mouth to speak, but a loud growl breaking through the air interrupted her. And a hulking mass of black roared through the sky, landing on top of her small body, pinning her to the ground. The wolf glared down at her—yellow eyes meeting crimson—and growled.
It was Derren.
Sabra worked her hands between her and Derren’s wolf form and pushed, throwing him back, causing him to go flying through the air and crash into a tree. A yelp of pain escaping from his core.
He fell to the ground and took a moment to recover. When he did he moved to the center, stopping in front of Bane, and their eyes met.
The other wolves scattered around the clearing of the forest, behind the big black wolf, that was Derren and moved into a menacing stance. Their posture was straight and they all looked ready to pounce at any moment.
Bane’s Clan moved from hiding in the trees and scattered behind him and Sabra, as well, their teeth bared.
Derren’s eyes narrowed and he gave a low snarl. His misty breath falling from his mouth, surrounding him and his Pack like a thin mist of smoke—that was there one minute and then dissipated into nothingness the next.
Bane glared in disdain at the Pack of wolves before him. “You’re all a bunch of worthless mutts,” he spat, flicking a stray hair of his back into place.
Two wolves, one gray and the other brown moved forward growling, their sharp canines bared, and ready to pounce.
Derren snapped at both of them and they moved back to their positions behind him. But not a moment later, Derren had jumped forward—not wanting to indulge in any pleasantries—at Bane. The vampire scowled and threw his fist forward, using all the strength he had, his fist collided with flesh, throwing Derren back onto the snowy ground, another yelp of pain escaping him, and he stayed there looking back at Bane, with a wolfish scowl.
The other wolves took that as their cue and attacked. The clearing of the forest becoming a bloodbath.
Moments later, Max—a fledgling—who was fairly new to the Monroe Clan, was pinned to the ground by a pure white wolf that looked ravenous. Its pale gray eyes boring into Max’s.
Max looked up afraid—he hadn’t had much training—and Bane knew he shouldn’t have allowed the fledgling to come along, but the boy had been very persistent and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
The fledgling struggled to get the wolf off of him. He struggled to push at the wolf’s broad shape, as hard as he tried. The wolf snarled and snapped at him, biting into the fledgling’s neck, blood invaded its mouth and a howl of satisfaction erupted deep and menacing from its chest. Followed was a loud shrill scream of pain that could make your skin crawl, then there was the sound of ripping flesh and the crunching of bone, as the wolf ripped his throat out. Blood splattered all over the wolf’s white coat of fur and then the screams stopped. It spit out the boy’s raw flesh then moved on to its next victim without a second glance.
The life that it had just taken meant nothing to it.
Bane ran toward the white wolf but was thrown back by Derren, falling onto his back. If he were alive and needed to breathe the air would have been knocked out of him. There was a rare moment of satisfaction and thankfulness that flashed through him at the fact that he was undead.
Bane stood back up and sped toward him, tackling Derren to the ground and wrapping his legs around the wolf’s neck, choking him. “You’re pathetic,” he spat. “You may be the alpha dog, but you’re still just a child living in the shadow of his father—a great man, who knew how to lead a Pack. God rest his soul. You’re nothing like him. You'll never be anything like him." Each word was laced with venom.
That was it, for Derren. He used as much strength as he could muster, breaking out of Bane’s grip and snapping at him. He dug his canines into Bane’s wrist, eliciting a gasp of shock and pain from the vampire that then turned into a masochistic laugh. His double fangs descended from their sheaths and he did an exaggerated snap of his fangs. “I can bite, too,” he said.
Derren’s eyes narrowed into thin slits, and his misty breath fanned against Bane’s face—hot and moist—and their eyes met. Full yellow eyes glared down into dark red—almost darker than blood—ones with black sclera’s that were bottomless pits with no emotion. Their glare lasted for a few moments, then Bane broke it flipping them both over so that he was straddling the wolf and pulled back one of its front legs until he heard a horrific pop and a yelp of shocked pain that came from Derren under him.
Derren rolled over rapidly, pushing Bane off of him and staggering to stand on three paws—the fourth one clutched protectively to his wolfish chest, shrill whines of pain escaping his mouth.
He, then let out a few weak barks and his Pack stopped fighting, huddling around their Pack leader. They were all coated with blood, their fur matted and sticky. And they smelled of death.
Bane looked back at his Clan, they were all covered in blood, and bite marks, as well. He then looked around on the ground; there were dead bodies and parts of his Clan members and some of Derren’s Pack members all over the place. He gave a curt nod—in respect—to the dead bodies of the lost, and moved over to Sabra. “I want you and the others to stack all of the bodies in a pile and burn them. Even the fallen Degenerate.”
Derren gave another howl and he and his Pack left the clearing of the forest, conceding.
“Do it fast,” said Bane, straightening out the black tailored suit that he was wearing. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I have a meeting with the leader of the Paris Clan, and there is business to be done back at the Manor,” he added, then left rushing off into the trees of the forest.
† † †
A week and a half later Bane received a letter from the Transcendent Council.
Bane, leader of the Monroe Clan, you are hereby being summoned to the Transcendent Court to stand before the Transcendent Council early tomorrow morning. For breaking the laws of the Peace Entente you will be tried and punished for your acts in warring with the Alexander Clan.
Bane stopped reading the letter—that was written on parchment paper—after that because the message had turned into a mass of jumbled words and accusations. He then folded it up and threw it into the fire that burned hot and steady in the fireplace, and he watched as it slowly burned and turned into tiny particles of ash, flying free into the air.
“Sabra,” he called out, moving over to a mirror—golden and worn with age—flattening out the wrinkles in his crimson blazer that he had paired with a black button-down shirt and a pair of black skintight pants.
“Yes?” said Sabra, from the doorway of Bane’s study.
“I’ve been summoned to the Transcendent Court,” he said in way of explanation. His voice was cool and held an undertone of an edge to it. “They’ll probably be here any minute to take me, so while I’m gone you’re in charge.”
“O-okay,” she replied. “But you won’t be gone long right?”
Bane gave a shrug of his shoulders then looked away from the mirror and at her. “We can only hope.”
The Transcendent Court was a huge building made up of white marble, long arches, and pointed towers that were heavily inspired by Gothic architecture.
The room that the Council used to sentence anyone that broke the law, in any way, was just like any other Courtroom. There was a large platform in the front of the room where the Council members sat to pass their judgment onto the very ones that broke the law, . . . or did wrong by them. In this case it was Derren and Bane for multiple offences. And besides the large platform there were chairs in rows all around the room for people to sit in during Council meetings and public Court hearings.
Bane and Derren stood side by side before the Council members—Exy Durray, Lupita Alexander, and a faerie named Drew—awaiting their judgment.
“I’m very disappointed in the both of you,” said Exy. A frown took over her lips. “Your foolishness is what brought you two before us. Now you’ll both stand there and adhere to the consequences of your actions. You’re both here for multiple reasons. Reasons that cause great shame and we the Court look down on you with great disappointment. And we regret to do you any harm because we are all very fond of the both of you. But it is our duty to punish those who do not obey the law and you two have broken the laws of the Peace Entente on many occasions.” There was a long moment of still silence, then Exy continued, turning the page of a set of documents that she had splayed in front of her on the podium. “Derren, it has come to our attention that a few nights ago you—for reasons we do not understand—went to the residence of the Monroe Clan and brutally killed a number of members. Is that correct?” she said looking down on Derren.
Derren looked up meeting her eyes and scoffed.
He wasn’t the big black wolf from the clearing in the forest a few nights back. Now he was in human form, his arm was still broken and now in a sling; he was a Hispanic male with long black hair that stopped at the meeting of his shoulders. He wore a white V-neck shirt that hugged the upper half of his body tightly, and a pair of whitewashed denim jeans. If you looked close enough you could see the resemblances between him and the Hispanic woman—Lupita, his mother—on the platform in front of them. “Yeah, I did,” he replied with a nod.
Lupita then jumped in. “For what reason, son?” she asked, a grave expression on her face. “I’ve never known you to do anything like this. I didn’t raise you—” she started to say, but was interrupted by Exy.
She was staring at Lupita, a stern look taking over her features. “You mustn’t let familial attachment cloud your judgment. Your son broke the law. And therefore he shall bear the consequences of his actions. He and the vampire shall be punished,” she said.
“Well at least hear what they have to say,” Drew cut in. His emerald green eyes pierced through everyone in the room. Though he was a faerie—one of the Divine—he was one of the most respected members of the Council. “Hear what the both of them have to say before we make a hasty decision,” he added.
Bane felt a cold chill run up his spine and wondered if Drew was cold too. Because the man was wearing close to nothing: he was shirtless and sporting only a pair of baggy dark gray harem pants. There was also a set of gold cuff that were placed on his biceps on top of a tattoo that looked like vines creeping up his left arm in black ink. His medium length platinum white hair with blue tips fell into his eyes.
Exy made an act of clearing her throat and begrudgingly said, “Fine. We’ll listen to what they have to say, even though we already have full reports from members of each of their Clans.”
That took Bane and Derren both by surprise. They dwelled on the thought of someone in their inner circles reporting them to the Council and then put it to the back of their minds for later.
Drew then turned to Bane and said, “Why did you decide to wage a small war on Derren and his pack?”
Bane pulled down on his crimson velvet blazer, straightening out the wrinkles that it had accumulated from being holed up in a cell for the past twelve hours. Then looked back up at Drew, meeting his eyes. “Why do you think I did?” he asked.
Drew took in a deep intake of breath then let it out slowly. “Don’t be coy. Answer the question. It’s very simple,” he said.
“My Clan is like my family. I care for them and they care for me. Do I need another reason, to want to kill Derren and some of his pack members? I don’t think so,” answered Bane venomously, and unknown fire in his eyes.
There was silence for a few moments. Drew looked like he was deep in thought.
“You broke my son’s spirit,” Lupita said.
CONTINUE TO PART 2 TO FINISH READING
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