Ready or Not

Her phone buzzed right after he programmed in her number, Celesse didn’t bother checking it. She lifted the drink in honour of the male as he took his leave. It was a salute of, ‘See you soon, Credit.’ And she meant that in a more predatory way, as she had plans for him that he wasn’t aware of. After he had left the bar, she took the phone and saw the text message from him, naming him as ‘Ben 10’ in a joking matter, since she was aware of his job working in SIB. If he caught the nickname, she could just fabricate it as having watched the show as a child.

“Don’t let him fool you, toots. Mortals never know how much danger they’re truly in.” The Bartender says, taking the time to make small talk with her.

A smile quirked up on her lips, “Oh, I know. There’s two lurking in the back with one of your kind, now. Benjamin is a… delicate case.”

“You realize he caught wind of your eye colour changing, right?”

Celesse shrugs her shoulders, grabbing her blazer and slips it on. Tucking her arm from under the collar and stashes the mobile device into her pocket. She slaps down a few bills to cover the drinks, noting that Ben didn’t even cover his own on his way out. “Keep the change, my friend.” She still spoke in her French accent, “Mr. Credit forgot to cover his arse, it seems. If he asks about me here, you don’t know me.”

The Vampire slips the bills away and mock salutes her with two fingers. He continues to watch the shapeshifter strut out the doors, with her umbrella and overcoat. Back out into the dreary rain that only grew heavier. She was back on the path towards her rental home for the next week or so.
 
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Benjamin snacked on fries from the take-out box on his way home. Why the hell had he given her his number...? He was already deeply regretting his choice. He had half a mind to turn around and drive back to the bar, rip the phone out of Celesse's hand and smash it into pieces. That would, likely, take care of both his problems: She would no longer have a way to contact him, and he was fairly certain he would very quickly find out what kind of supernatural creature she and the others in the bar were.

The house he was returning to was one he had chosen with care. In the Kirkland suburb of Seattle, the little home was right on the edge of the lake. The land it sat on was pricey, but it was worth it for the solitude it afforded him. There would be no neighbors peering into his windows from across some concrete alleyway. The smell of the water was strong, but Benjamin was certain he would get used to it quickly. It was one floor with two bedrooms, one of which he had turned into a personal gym. A small living area that connected directly to the kitchen, with a mudroom off the back to clean fish or grow plants or whatever it was the locals here did.

It was in a little bit of a state of disrepair, which was fine with Benjamin because it meant he got it at a good price and it would give him something to do besides work and work out. Someone in its long list of patronage had painted the exterior an optimistic pastel yellow that did not fare well against the onslaught of sea breezes, and the interior was even more obtuse. It was that annoying shade of sky blue that everyone in the history of cliche waterfront properties ever painted their homes. Benjamin didn't even want to think about the number of seashells he'd had to throw out when he moved in.

For now, however, he was content to sit on his sagging couch and eat his burger while flipping through the information he'd brought from work. He started with vampires.
 
She made her way from down town Seattle towards Pike Place Market. Celesse hadn’t the chance to check out the full penthouse she rented, but from the Air B-n-B page, it resembled what she liked. She loosely played with the mobile in her pocket, whistling a tune against the rain that pattered against her umbrella. Turns out taking a taxi to Vlad’s wasn’t ideal since her temporary home was just a small walk from it. She made a mental note, if she had plans to return to the joint. There might’ve been a profile she skimmed before meeting Benjamin, but he was vastly different in person. ‘Will I need a nutcracker?’ She pondered, passing by a shop that just had one on display, it was a life-size one with its jaw slack open.

Meeting the front entrance, she was met by the concierge giving her access into the building. She took the elevator to the penthouse. Upon opening the door, she found a panoramic view of the ocean front, a love couch sat in the corner of the room with a mounted flat screen. The entire penthouse furnished entirely to her accommodation, along with services offered of a pool, gym, hot tub, and access to the roof, if she wanted. She closed the umbrella up and set it besides the wall, letting out a sigh as she draped her overcoat and blazer across the leather, black couch to the side.

“Now, this is what I call luxury.” She said to no one in particular.

The night sky twinkled in the background, boats docked at the piers, and even a small carnival wafting on the ocean. The other side of the building harboured a view of the other buildings that spiralled towards the skies, and gave her a ‘modern’ view – if you could call it that. She made herself another drink, this time a chilled cognac, and took to the master bedroom, with a queen-sized bed in front of the large window. The view of Seattle never cease to amaze her, Celesse took to laying the bed and taking a sip of the alcohol.

“Almost $10K for the week. You’ve outdone yourself, Celesse.” She complimented herself, taking another drink. She didn’t take large payouts to spend it all at once, but to be reminded that the mortals could build beautiful things they desired, and this view was proof of that. The ocean front’s view was something she could never grow accustomed to, in her younger days she lived entirely inland. It truly was the little things that mattered, even if for a brief moment.
 
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Benjamin stayed up longer than he had initially intended reading through any and all material he could gather on vampires. After finishing his burger he'd moved from the living area into his bedroom which had a desk with a laptop computer and a printer, where he now pulled up webpages detailing specific vampiric traits he'd taken interest in out of the SIB file. He'd had a very unfortunate bunny trail at the beginning when he'd Googled "do vampire's eyes change color", only to discover a truly bland rendition of the creatures out of a young adult fantasy book that included them returning to highschool. According to the lore of that book - which, who could ever know if the author actually knew anything of supernatural beasts or not? - a vampire's eyes could change colour depending on how recently they had eaten, but this trait did not seem to follow what he had seen of Celesse's eyes.

Benjamin had cracked open a beer from the fridge and after another hour of research this one drink in addition to those he'd had at the bar left him feeling warm and ready for bed. He closed the lid of the laptop and finally shed his work clothes, changing into a pair of basketball shorts and a white t-shirt to sleep. He was a simple man with a simple wardrobe that pretty much consisted only of these two styles of clothing. In the morning he would spend a couple hours in the gym working out, shower and eat breakfast, and then see what he could do about his house's ridiculous paint job.

Unlike most veterans, Benjamin enjoyed sleep. His wasn't interrupted by flashbacks or nightmares. He was certain he hadn't dealt with the losses he'd experienced overseas in any healthy manner - his youth was punctuated by alcoholism and prostitutes - but something had changed after he'd been discharged. He'd realized that in order to move on, he'd simply have to accept what had happened to him. There was no use in denial or false hope or wishing things had come out different. He'd survived, and his friends hadn't. That wasn't their fault. It wasn't his fault. It just was. So while he'd fought many battles both in the dust and in his own mind, they no longer plagued his dreams. After plugging his phone in to charge on the nightstand, he was asleep to the sound of the waves in minutes.
 
In the early morning, Celesse was already up and about. She ordered take-out instead of enjoying the breakfast prepared downstairs, she wanted to enjoy this morning to herself. After retrieving her food, she left a large tip to the delivery boy, who seemed to be swooning as he remembered he was only there to get the food to her. She gave a curt smile and shut the door on his face, making her way towards the small table equipped with high, modern chairs. Taking a seat, she opened the styrofoam, the steam rolled off the hash browns, bacon & egg sandwiches, and the side salad. To top it off, she washed it down with a cappuccino, far from her usual black coffee with two sugars.

She was ready to enjoy the views and food when her phone interrupted her tranquil state. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she marched over to the blazer draped over the black couch, and fished the pockets for the device. Not a full 24 hours gone by and Alaric was already calling back. Simmering her disappointment, she answered it with the usual greeting, only for the Vampire to recite back to her.

“So, have you found Mr. Credit, yet?” He inquired, rather in a hushed tone.

“Yes.” She retorts, “But, he may prove more difficult to crack than I initially thought.”

“Ah, yes. As I recall from the Bartender’s own words, Benjamin Credit was rather…pensive during your run-in with him.”

“Really?” She lifted a brow, “I knew you had spies, just didn’t think it were a low crawl bar like Vlad’s.” She remarked.

His chuckles are quiet, yet loud enough for her to hear, “I’ve eyes and ears everywhere, Sicarius. Which brings me to the topic of Lucien.”

“Lucien? Did something happen?”

“Well, it seems he plans to move on the others soon. According to my sources, he plans on taking my second-in-command, Lucius.”

“Well, wolves run in packs. What did you do?” She said, casually taking a bite out of her hash brown.

“What didn’t I do, is the real question. Lucien knows it is against law to create newborns. I have simply…” He trails off, some mumbling on the other end before he comes back to the phone, “…handled the problem. The others have grown aware of how the dogs are growing in number, day-by-day.”

“Okay, this involves me how…?”

He’s amused at her answer, “You’re right it doesn’t, but you will choose a side one way or another. But, I’m done dawdling with you. I’ll keep you in the loop. The other factions are making moves…I don’t know if they’ll involve you too, but keep your eyes peeled.” The call ends abruptly and she finishes the rest of her food in pensive thoughts.
 
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Benjamin's goal was to build useful muscle mass. He didn't want to look like someone had stuck him with a needle and inflated him with helium like a balloon just so he could slather on baby oil and flex on a stage. His body was a tool that worked in tandem with his mind in order to accomplish his goals. In order to survive, he had to be fit. That was true more than ever now that he was dealing with creatures who naturally had ten, twenty, thirty times his own strength. He would never be able to defeat them in hand-to-hand combat, but that didn't mean he couldn't keep his own form in top physical condition and give himself the best fighting chance.

He started out the morning with a seven mile run down Lake street, arriving at his house again just as the sun was beginning to crest the horizon. His regimen of choice was circuit training, which focused on building strength and endurance. He found the quickest way to beat his fellow coworkers was to simply outlast them. And it was true that he constantly saw those around him as competitors. If there was someone around him he didn't think he'd be able to best in a fight, it was back to the gym. Which was part of what made taking this job at the SIB so difficult. He was constantly questioning the strength of the people who occupied the space around him. They make look weak, but were they hiding some kind of supernatural strength?

An hour and a half later he completed his circuit, pouring down sweat due to the high humidity from the rains the night before. He showered, changed into a white button-down shirt and black slacks with a thin black belt, and pulled some leftovers out of the fridge for breakfast. Four hard-boiled eggs for protein, two pieces of sprouted-grain toast, and a small avocado. Once he had eaten, Benjamin drew aside the curtain in the small window above his kitchen sink to find it was drizzling outside again. His sleeves rolled up to his elbow and top button undone sans tie (his most 'casual' going-out look), he picked up his wallet and his umbrella and headed to the car.

As he'd been on his run this morning he'd decided to put on his to-do list for the day a visit to a bookstore he'd discovered in his research the night before. He needed to go out to pick up a pressure washer to remove the paint from the siding on the house and figured he might as well do some studying while he was at it. Mortlake & Company, a self-proclaimed "occult bookstore", apparently handled all kinds of ancient tomes regarded as religious and prescriptive by many of the more minor factions in Seattle. Since he hadn't had any luck with figuring out Celesse's origin by Googling any of the main castes, Benjamin thought he'd try something a little more off the beaten path.
 
While the shapeshifter was done getting ready, more information piled up into her device. Though she was working for Alaric, in the moment, there were other people vying for her services. You would be surprised at much the other factions wanted on the other—they were just as slimy as the Council. Celesse could complain and sigh, but the matter of fact was that money made her a slave to it. Her accounts were all off shore, of course, she couldn’t leave a paper trail if she were to play monkey in the middle. But lately with the tensions brewing between the factions, the leaders of said factions all wanted her to join their faction. Being the middle man – woman, in this case – had its ups and its downs, her downs were more likely.

She had a plan to quell the tensions, restore peace among the factions, and move out of the area after her work was finished. As of now, the most important role in all of this was to grab Credit’s attention, perhaps becoming his friend seemed the best option. A man of his background wouldn’t want to have weaknesses, especially now that he was in SIB. Celesse realize he might just be the only human working in SIB’s department. This made her ponder if SIB wanted more human agents to coalesce with their supernatural ones. It was a step in the right path of mortals and supernaturals co-existing – but that would only work if the humans had knowledge of their kind, which was more unlikely to happen.

Celesse already out on the pavement, the Hewmark Tower looming behind her. She held the black umbrella over her, shielding her from the drizzle that continued after the heavy rains the day prior. The shapeshifter decided to keep the form of a voluptuous woman, amber hues, and raven-coloured hair that was now hidden beneath a tan-coloured bucket hat. Like yesterday, she opted for a cream-coloured turtle neck, tucked into dark high-waist jeans that were held up with a tan-beige leather belt, finishing it off with ankle-leather rain boots. She completed the overall look with a shin-length, cream-coloured overcoat with the collar down turned. With the light pattering against her umbrella, she wrinkled her nose in disgust, never used to the dreary Seattle weather. The shapeshifter went out to meet up with another supernatural, their details were vague, but the message was rather urgent.
 
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Benjamin loved to read. It had been a difficult aspect of his childhood growing up in a military family that was all about football and hunting, roughhousing and tannerite. He liked all of those things, too (except for maybe football - it was just men playacting at war), but when he would curl up under his covers at night with a flashlight to read a book he'd borrowed from the school library, more often than not his father would burst into the room and rip the pages out of his hands. Somehow he always knew. His father was a man who hadn't been allowed much of a chance at education, and was therefore threatened by it. Benjamin didn't understood that at the time, of course, but after his father died he'd come to terms with this explanation

He found a section in the store on supernatural creatures and began reading the spines of the books to see what would pop out at him. Most of them were more of the same - vampires, werewolves, zombies - those seemed to be the main three no matter where he looked. It probably had to do with the prevalence of such creatures. Their methods of reproduction meant they didn't have to bear children to build their ranks - they could simply create more of each other by infecting humans.

Benjamin's gaze stopped as it ran across a book on mermaids. There were so many possibilities for supernatural creatures, but it piqued his interest to know how they managed to hide themselves in modern society, for they did so fairly accurately. Being surrounded by water, he wouldn't be surprised if there were a mermaid population here. But did they have to live in the water? Or could they live on land? Did their eyes change colour? He pulled the book off the shelf and began to read.
 
She looked up at the sign, Seattle Meowtropolitan, and was amused. Never mind that the supernatural running such a place, was amusing in the context that this being was more of a foxlike being. A Kitsune, to be more precise. She entered the café, met with an onslaught of coffee and pastries attacking her sense of smell. The café was appealing to families, cat-lovers, and tourists who wanted to get a quick bite or drink – this place was of the sorts. Even more so, she was surprised by the live performance of a band, playing a light, cheerful tune. Celesse didn’t get far before a frazzled, yet beautiful older woman came her way, immediately ushering her away from the front entrance and towards the back office. Once the door clicked shut behind her, she was offered a seat and refreshments, which she kindly declined.

“What’s so urgent?” Celesse finally asked, adjusting herself on the small grey sofa.

The woman looked rather spooked as she gulped down some chamomile tea for her nerves, then finally closing the blinds in the room. “You’ve heard of the on coming war between the factions, right?” She took a seat at her desk.

She nods her head, giving her the signal to continue.

“While I’m not the only one of my kind worried about this, I’ve been contacted by the head of my kin to come back to Japan. I haven’t sent a reply back yet because I can’t come to the conclusion whether staying will help my people or do harm staying away.”

“Okay, so this really isn’t an urgent matter. More of like an inconclusive decision, right?” Celesse crosses her legs.

“Well, more about that. My Lady, Ren, has been coaxed in joining the others to fight against the other factions. I don’t understand why this is happening.” She took another sip and placed the tea cup aside.

“Having kitsune’s fight would prove useful. I’m just having a hard time on why there’s a war coming in the first place.” Celesse remarks, she knew of the tensions brewing between the Werewolves and Vampires, but to involve Kitsune’s? Just what part of the equation was she missing?

“Well, let me tell you more about it. Is your schedule clear for the next hour or two?” The woman inquired from her.

Celesse nods, “Yeah. I don’t have any meetings till after 1 PM.”

“It all started with…” She goes on to tell about the tensions that have always existed between the factions, and how the simmering of them were being proving difficult to quash lately. This time around, it was mostly between the bloodsuckers and dogs, but they were involving other creatures that wanted nothing but peace whilst co-existing among the humans. She went on to tell Celesse how there was once a huge faction of shapeshifters within the area, but were run out of town by the last faction war. This part of the conversation piqued her interest, causing her to lean in towards the Kitsune, listening with intense attention.
 
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By the time he broke away from the book to glance at his watch, Benjamin realized he had been standing there reading for a full half hour. He had been completely absorbed as soon as he found the section on mermaids being able to take on a human form and walk on land for certain lengths at a time. However, he came up dry when he flipped through the volume searching for instances of eye colour changing. Maybe he needed to go at this a different way. Maybe it wasn't that she was able to change the colour of her eyes, but that he had glimpsed a partial switch from one form to another? More like a werewolf? That she could be two different beings, the human part being the guise she hid behind while in reality she was some monster clothed in mortal flesh?

Speaking of Celesse, he glanced at his phone. He figured it was too soon for her to leave him a message, but she had been so strangely insistent last night after having forced aloofness for the first half of their conversation. Of course, there was nothing in his inbox from her. One of his coworkers, however, had invited him to come to a popular club tonight for drinks. This particular coworker was a werewolf. With a reluctant sigh Benjamin accepted the invitation, googling the location of the club - right at the heart of downtown. Taking this job was going to force him to be far more of a socialite than he ever desired to be.

As he moved to the register to check out with the book on mermaids and one more on angels and demons, Benjamin noticed that the few people who occupied the store with him were grouped into clumps and talking in hushed voices, each group about as far away from the other as physically possible in the tight space. A couple of them watched him warily as he moved amongst the bookshelves. What was that all about...? Even though the other patrons were all adults, they appeared to be grouped into cliques like highschool students.

"Thanks for shopping local!" the clerk at the front desk said with a large, over-eager smile as the tall human paid and exited the building, shielding the books in their bag against the drizzle as he made his way back to the car. Now, he supposed, there was nothing for it except to pick up the power washer and head back home for some manual labor.
 
Celesse left the café with more questions than answers about the supposed war. The Owner, she learned was called, "Eiko." Mostly an affront to the old Kitsune, her inquiry about taking in cats was a peculiar one that went unanswered by Eiko. The drizzle mostly subsided now, just tufts of grey clouds hung in the skies, blocking out the sun that tried to break free of its captor. For Celesse, this was good news, it meant she could hang onto her umbrella while she did her business. The shapeshifter was done tracking the lost kitsune to the door belonging to a Ghoul. Why would a Ghoul want to coax Ren into a matter that did not pertain to her kind, was a question in itself.

Ghouls were evil spirits, easily locked away into a small faction that was heavily monitored by the Council. Celesse pondered if someone in the council was pulling strings to help the ghouls. They were especially harmful to Humans. The unlucky souls who found themselves in this faction were likely to get snatched up and fed upon. She shifted herself to look a Ghoul, able to bypass the security around the gated community. On the outside, it appeared as if wealthy folk lived here, but that was far from the truth. It was an excuse to get around the human laws and to monitor the creatures of evil by CTS and SIB alike – it was more of a joint-effort on either side to keep the mortals safe. And to keep them ignorant to live in their own blissful, content lives.

Celesse’s keen sense of smell picked up on the scent of the lost kitsune. Along with the invisible dripping of blood, not only along with Ren’s. There were others that splattered the ground. She used her foresight to see past the illusion spell placed on it. A majority of it belonging to humans, but a few supernaturals got entangled up into this death faction. She followed Ren’s trail of blood, it was distinctive violet colour, and it trailed right into the largest building in the gated faction.

“The Lord of Ghouls, what are you up to?” Celesse says to herself.
 
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Back at home, Benjamin changed out of his dress shirt and slacks and into a pair of athletic pants and a grey FBI t-shirt from his days at Quantico. He was grateful the rain had stopped, giving him the chance to work outside without the added burden of being soaked from the sky. In his front yard he hooked up a hose to the pressure washer, all the while aware that he was under the intense scrutiny of his nearest neighbor. Mistress Eleanor, she demanded to be called. She was an elderly woman in perhaps her seventies with a very direct and judgmental gaze. She had told him, on the first day he'd met her as he moved boxes from the Penske truck into his new home, that she had lived in her house for the past forty years and that she knew everyone in the neighborhood. Also, she informed him quite succinctly, she would be sure to tell the police at the first sign of any misstep from her new neighbor.

As he stood straight again with the wand of the pressure washer in his hand, the loud motor rumbling away, he offered a wave that she responded to with a scowl. Benjamin shrugged and began blasting the old, peeling paint from the sideboards of the house, hoping he wouldn't find any damage to the wood underneath. It was likely, though, due to the salt in the air and the intense winds from being so near the water, that many of the boards would be rotten through and he'd have to replace them.

His whole world was changing. The more he learned about the supernatural that surrounded him, the more he wished he could return to a time before he had become so aware. How was it possible that those with so much power and raw strength had let humans live alongside them in relative peace for so long...? He supposed humans probably made easy targets for creatures like vampires and zombies that needed living hosts to feed on. Were they all just pawns then in some supernatural chess game? He had specifically decided not to think about his past memories, especially those in the military, in relation to his new knowledge. He didn't want to consider the fact that his closest friends might have been hiding something this drastic from him about themselves.

Benjamin's whole life had been centered around becoming stronger so he could protect more people. Up until recently, he had thought he was doing a pretty good job at it. Now he learned he was about as far down the totem pole as was possible, and that was quite a disconcerting feeling.
 
She moved into the estate with ease, noting the home to be reflecting that of a mortal with wealth. Perhaps the Ghouls really liked to play house? Or maybe they wanted to be comfortable of a time long gone. Either way, Celesse would find out soon when she came upon the trail of blood leading up the spiralling stairs up to the higher levels. On the inside, you could tell magic was used, the place was a lot larger, there were more floors than she could count as she followed the trail. While she did so, she took note of the many pieces of art clinging to the walls. Chairs, tables, end-tables, and even plants that were on near every corner she turned. Into another corridor, she found the violet trail ending into a door way and when Celesse opened it, it were another set of stairs she’d climb.

She felt like an investigator, trying to find Ren, when it fact it was because her friend paid a good sum of money. Would that be another branch of investigating? ‘Private Investigator.’ She chided herself in near forgetting the word. Celesse would find the end of the trail after another hour of following it in her Ghoul form, without obstacle or difficulty. The Lord of Ghouls sat in his large chair, pieces of sentiment and memory belonging to forgotten souls of the dead laid at his feet. And there was Ren, in a trance, in her Kitsune form with two tails apparent. Her magic was strong, but not strong enough to go against the Lord of Ghouls or even the shapeshifter, herself.

Celesse revealed herself to the Lord, “You have my prize.” She complained as soon as her form was complete.

The Ghoul snapped its neck in her direction, “You! How dare you enter—”

“Now, do you want this to go the easy or hard way?” She inquired, looking at her nails.

“The fox is mine! That damned leech promised me!” The Ghoul said out in prolonged sentences.

“Wait. What leech?” She inquired, intrigued as to which Vampire was being naughty again.

“Le Count! That deceiver!”

“You can never trust Drac, he’s always been a sneaking, two-timing…” Her voice trails off as Ren produces a spell. The room shifts around her, placing her in another part of the building. As warned beforehand, Ren was great at illusions and even if she were a weaker kitsune, she harboured great magical ability towards this type of magic. Celesse nearly fell over, she caught herself on the pillar that was besides her as she landed on her feet.

“Now, that’s not fair.” She continued complaining like a toddler. Yet, she continued in her Ghoul form to return back the Ghoul’s chambers, if she could find them again.
 
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After completing his task of blasting the faded yellow paint off the front face of the house, Benjamin paused for lunch. He really wasn't much of a cook, though he loved good food, but he tried to make his own meals on the weekends. As absorbed in work as he was during the week and with no time or patience to think about meal prepping or grocery shopping, he usually ate out. But today for lunch since it wasn't raining any longer he fired up the grill in the back yard behind the mud room and put two chicken breasts on it along with an assortment of vegetables to roast. For whatever reason, despite the fact that there were no fences separating their properties, Mistress Eleanor didn't seem to care if he was doing something in his back yard, only the front.

As he rested the lid of the grill back on its housing, he glanced out at the troubled sky over Lake Washington. There were several people out on their yachts, though that number would increase dramatically as night fell and the parties began. Mostly for now the boats on the lake consisted of those spending the sleepy afternoon fishing. It was difficult to render the juxtaposition of this peaceful afternoon with the murder he'd investigated yesterday. A murder that might never be solved in any official capacity. A family who may never receive a body to bury.

Benjamin ate his lunch in silence in a folding chair in his back yard, overlooking the lake. He'd never lived somewhere with so much water before. It was different, but certainly not unpleasant. Perhaps he'd have to add swimming into his workout regimen. He wondered if there were any mermaids that lived in the lake.

After setting his dishes in the dishwasher, Benjamin continued his work blasting the paint off the sides and the back of the house. He had been surprised so far by the integrity of the siding, though all that changed when he got to the rear of the house. Just the force of the pressure washer itself was blasting bits of the wood siding off, sending splinters flying into the air. He supposed it made sense, that being the side of the house facing the water and therefore the one that would get the brunt of the wind, but he was no less pleased by it.

By the time he finished with the pressure washer and ripping rotten boards off the side of his house, the sun had been set for about an hour. Looking at his watch, Benjamin determined he had just enough time to run to the home improvement store and gather up some materials for the repairs he needed to do before meeting his coworker at the club.

Returning a little over an hour later with the new siding sticking out the window of his little Camry, Benjamin quickly moved all of the supplies into the mudroom. His coworker had texted him to let him know he was already at the club with some friends, and to hurry up and join in. The tattooed man shed his work clothes and took a quick shower before donning his apparel from earlier in the day. He toweled his hair dry and then brushed it into place with his fingers before heading out the door to Trinity, a large nightclub in the downtown area.
 
As if she weren’t already in trouble with tracking down the Ghoul again, her phone started ringing, giving her position away as a normal-looking Ghoul. However, in her bad luck, there was a silver lining as no one was around her. ‘Just how big is this building?’ She fished her phone out, finding Alaric on the other end. She would never hear the end of his snide remarks if she were to ignore his call. She answered in a hushed tone, “Thought you were going to leave me be to my ‘dawdling.?’” She inquired without even using the usual greeting.

“Looks like you don’t have manners, Sicarius.” Alaric chided her.

She mentally rolled her eyes, looking both ways into the next corridor, “Kinda busy at the moment.” The silence was deafening, just where the hell were all the Ghouls?

“Well, it must not really be important if you picked up my call.”

“50/50. I’d rather not hear your sarcastic remarks and badgering for the end of my days on this earth. Plus… my target is not particularly making it easy to be found in the moment.”

Alaric’s tone is amused, “Playing cat and mouse, Sicarius?”

Her brow furrowed, taking yet another empty turn, “What’d you call me for this time?” She ignored his comment.

“Lucien’s made his move. He’s coming towards my end of the city. There’s someone working with the dogs and I hate to add it to your growing platter of food, but I want you to weed out the culprit.”

“Okay? You have any specific location for…” Her voice trails off, seeing the end of two tails darting down a flight of stairs.

Alaric can hear soft padding on his end of the line, “This is rather coincidental – and perhaps this will help with Mr. Credit – but my sources tells me, the sneaky mouse is working from somewhere in down town.”

She’s keeping her breathing slow while she runs after the kitsune, “That’s great. Send me the rest. I have to go.” She ends the phone call and manages to slip through the door before it slams shut behind her.

The end of her fingers grasp one of the tails, she yanks the kitsune back with her supernatural strength. Ren screeches out in pain as the foxlike being is pulled back with sheer force and lands into solid wall. Celesse lock bolts her arms into place and she begins placing the kitsune under a spell. The Lord of Ghouls can be heard chuckling, the sounds bouncing off around the walls.

“That was just a distraction, Celesse.” It says, revealing himself to be sitting in a comfy chair, the treasures of the dead sitting at his feet.

“Well, I’m not here to play games. I’m just here for the fox.”

“Be careful, Celesse. The people you work for, might be using you for all you know.”

“What does it matter? Coin is all I need.” She expresses a bored look.

“Mala tempora currunt.” Is all he says and with the snap of his fingers, she’s transported outside of the estate. Celesse gets an eerie feeling. Since when did Ghouls have the ability to transport people?
 
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From the very moment Benjamin drove onto the lot that housed the club, he was uneasy. He could hear - and feel - the thumping of the bass from the 'music' all the way out here. Flashing lights of various colours broke through the windows and reflected off the cars in the stuffed parking lot. He had to circle twice to find a place to put his vehicle. Why the hell had he agreed to this again...? Once he had a few drinks, at least, it would be bearable.

The doorknob to the building rattled in his hand with the force of the music, and as he stepped into the entryway Benjamin found himself faced with a man even more barrel-chested than he: the bouncer. He gave the man a curt nod and was let inside. He stood in the entrance against the wall, away from the gyrating masses of people of all ages, pulling out his phone to text his coworker and let him know he had arrived.

"Benny Credit!" he heard from above him, and before he could even get the text sent off he saw Harold Gardener coming down the steps from the VIP room. "C'mon my man, don't look so glum! We're celebrating tonight!"

Benjamin winced at the awful nickname. He hated nicknames. If 'Benjamin' was too long for you, you could just say 'Credit'. Easy as that. "Hey, man," he called back as he squeezed through the pulsing throng of dancers, trying to ignore the looks and the attempts to distract him on his way through. As he made it to the staircase two young women in leather bikinis and fishnet escorted him up to the landing where Harold waited for him, arms outstretched.

"You didn't say in your text, what are we celebrating?" Benjamin asked over the noise of the club below as he was shown to a couch and sat down, one of the girls sitting with him and leaning in against his side.

Harold laughed and passed him a beer before taking his own seat in an oversized armchair, one girl on either side of him with their arms draped around him. "Nothing man, forget it. We're celebrating getting laid tonight," he joked with a wink. "Order whatever you want, it's on me."

"Mmm," Benjamin responded halfheartedly, moving the girl's hand from his thigh back to her own.

Harold had been recruited into the SIB fairly young due to his family history. He was a bred werewolf, not a bitten one - pureblood. As such, the SIB knew he had connections within the Family. What they didn't know was how deep those connections went. With his inside information from the Bureau, Harold had been one of the master architects behind the attack on the vampires tonight. He himself was excused from the violence on the account that it would raise suspicions in his job. The night for him was half celebration at the impending attack on their hated rivals, and half an excuse to get blackout drunk and forget the fact that he wasn't there sinking his teeth into those pasty fanged fancies alongside his bretheren.

"Shit man, did you even change clothes after work on Friday? You look like you're ready to go right back at it," Harold teased with a laugh as he looked his coworker over.

Benjamin shrugged, "You said we're celebrating, what's wrong with dressing up?" He downed the beer in his hand in one go. Maybe tonight was a good night to break his rule about not getting drunk in public.
 
She couldn’t tell how long she’d been in there, but night has already fallen. Celesse scratches her head in confusion, she’d have to be more careful if she could remember to. With the kitsune resting over her shoulder, she slipped out of the gated faction unnoticed – in her opinion – and she returned to her mortal form. The shapeshifter places an illusionist spell, making the kitsune appear back in her own human form. It’d look like two friends returning home on a night out, she took out her phone and rang up Eiko. The older kitsune was ecstatic, transferring the final funds to her bank account.

“I’ll return to your café by taxi.” Celesse informs her.

“Great! I’ve finished the transaction.” Eiko sounds on the verge of tears, “I’m just so glad to see my lady returned.”

“That’s why I do what I do, as long as the price is right.” She retorts. “See you soon.” She ends the phone call and take a cab towards the cat café. Within ten minutes she’s there, handing off Ren to Eiko and bids her farewell. When the kitsune’s are back in the comfort of their homes, Celesse catches a glimpse of something else.

‘Seeing things?’ She thought, closing the door to the cab. The driver took off down the road, likely to find another stranded patron. Celesse took one final look at the building before turning down the pavement, realizing her phone had been buzzing this entire time. Fishing the mobile out of her pocket, she received the information from Alaric. Upon opening the message, she found a triangulated area in down town Seattle.

“Apologies in advance, the snake is somewhere in this area. The others have been trying to distract me from doing personal business. I would’ve given you the exact location, but this is the best I can do for now. – A.” The message ended in the first letter of his name.

Celesse takes note of the several restaurants, clubs, public services, parks, and even tourist attractions within the vicinity. Just which being would be operating underneath Alaric’s nose? They must’ve not been that entirely smart if Alaric was able to pick up on the culprit’s scent. The docks seem like a good place to start as crime seem to have an ever-occurring theme sticking to them. There would still be a lot of ground to cover, for now she was grasping at straws on where to get her footing. Perhaps she’ll pick up on the different scents once she were to get there by vehicle. Celesse realized she was on the other side of the bridge and Seattle.

‘Do I go by foot or by vehicle in this traffic?’ She said, checking at how heavy it was. The weekend was just getting into full swing with parties and revellers likely to roam the streets after a long night of partying. She smacked herself in the forehead, remembering she could just take form of a bird and get there by flight.

“Duh! Why didn’t I think of that sooner?” Celesse mumbled to herself. After checking around for any civilians, she disappeared behind the building of the café and took form of a pigeon – it would be less conspicuous. She took flight with her little wings and gained kilometres into the skies, pretty soon she was flying over the many buildings.


—​

​
“Lucius is taking the back alley.” One werewolf says through the telepathic connection to all of his brothers hiding in place. The second-in-command seemed unaware of the amount of danger he was in.

“I got eyes on him, moving north west.”

“Keep your eyes on him. Our brother in Trinity should be making his move soon in the club.” Lucien retorts, he perches on a nearby building. Half of his pack was working, moving according to his commands, to capture Lucius. However, what they didn’t bet on was the Vampire already fully aware of their plan to attack and capture him.

Lucien is interrupted by a pigeon nearly smacking into him, he swats at it. The bird flaps its wings in annoyance at him, he tilts his head at the bird. The pigeon rolls its black, beady eyes at the werewolf before continuing on its resolved path towards down town Seattle. Lucien swore there was something off about that pigeon, he never seen one react to his actions before. Dismissing the silly interaction, he turned his attention back to the area in front of him.

“Harold.” Lucien says through the connection, “On my mark, get ready to hit the club.”

The Pigeon flapped its wings, soaring against the winds in the higher altitude. It finally gets to its destination after another ten minutes of racing against mother nature’s messenger that swept the skies. It landed behind the building, in the glow of the lights pouring against the bricked wall, the pigeon transforms into a woman. Celesse took the form she retained throughout the day, already out onto the side walk. She was able to pick up various scents immediately, finding a cloister of werewolves having been by recently.

‘This is no good. Alaric might just be right about this faction war.’ She says as she tries to decipher the scents, and to pick one to follow.
 
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Benjamin was on his third beer when he noticed a subtle but definite shift in the atmosphere here in the VIP room. Harold had put a pause on his flirtations with the two girls who had been entertaining him, sending them off for snacks and some heavier drinks. He now stood at the half wall overlooking the dance floor below, seemingly engrossed in the throng of dancing bodies. But as Benjamin's eyes fell to his coworker's hands on the railing, he noticed how white his knuckles were.

Harold felt like his whole body was thrumming, alive and vibrating along with the music. Alcohol wasn't the only thing he'd ingested this evening, and his senses were as alert and keen as ever. I'm ready, he responded to his elder, locating his prey amongst those on the pulsing dance floor. Tonight was the night they took back control of the city.

Benjamin didn't know what was happening. He didn't know why Harold had asked him here. He wasn't sure what they were, or weren't, celebrating. But he could feel the hair on the back of his neck begin to stand on end, his intuition telling him something bad was about to go down. The girl next to him had reached for his belt, hoping for some extra tips to end the night with, but Benjamin grabbed her by the wrist and looked her directly in the eye.

"You need to leave, now. Find somewhere safe to hide." She looked at him in confusion, trying to figure out if this was some strange form of foreplay. But Benjamin stood, bringing her to her feet as well. He gave her wrist a tight squeeze, leaning in so she knew he was serious. "Somewhere protected, like the freezer. Take as many of your coworkers with you as you can," he said in hushed tones so Harold wouldn't hear. His grip was becoming painful, which he noted by the sudden discomfort in the girl's face, and when he let her go she quickly moved down the stairs away from them. Whether or not she took the rest of his advice... that would be up to her. She probably saw a lot of crazy people in her line of work. He doubted she'd follow his suggestion.

Having cleared the rest of the civilians in the lounge, Benjamin pulled the little 9mm pistol from his ankle holster and slid it into the waistband of his pants at the small of his back for easier access. He'd already primed it with silver bullets for the werewolf before arriving here, but he had extra clips with other bullets hidden on his person. He stood now, facing Harold but in view of the steps, waiting for whatever was coming next.
 
She stiffened in her stance, sniffing the air to find a familiar scent among those in juxtapose coalescence. She quirked her right brow, would it be out of character for her target to be down this way? The man seem like he either had the best of luck or the worst of luck. ‘Guess it’s destiny, eh?’ She followed Credit’s scent down from where she was on the pavement, crossing the street to find herself in front of an Asian-style club, ‘Trinity?’ Not only was his here, but other supernaturals were among them.

She entered the club, slipping the bouncer a tip to sidle in without having to join the line that was starting to stretch alongside the street. As soon as she entered, the music muffled her hearing, nearly blowing them with the club music that played from the DJ’s booth. Celesse looked around in the first floor, but with the amount of bodies packed together, she had to push through. The air was hot, sweaty party-goers already drunk on the dance floor where a cheap fog machine hazed over. The blinding lights did not fare well for her as she looked each direction. With her senses overwhelmed, she decided to find a place among the wallflowers. She took this time to catch her breath and calm her heart, she never liked crowded places despite living in the outskirts of Seattle. But she couldn’t let her fear of enclosed spaces overcome the reason she came out here in the first place: to find Alaric’s snake.

Celesse closed her eyes, letting her nose pick up the scents and sort them out. She was surprised to find an Angel among the revellers. Aren’t they supposed to not sin? She wouldn’t judge ‘em as she found an overwhelming scent, it was masked in cheap cologne, and it might just be the one pulling the strings. With help of her foresight, she caught the scent’s thread, it was thin and wispy, it went up to the second floor. ‘There’s a second floor?’ Shrugging her shoulders and squaring her resolve, she set off up towards the stairs.


—
​

Across the city, Lucien watched as his brothers corner the Vampire into a single safe house. Apparently, this is where Lucius liked to hide or what it appeared to be a hide out spot for him. The Pack Leader smiled, his canines apparent, ‘Do it now, Harold.’ He sent back to his brother. The connection was cut after that, it would be a distraction for patrols out working for SPD or SIB or even CTS, so they would be able to snatch the vampire under the guise of it.
 
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Benjamin watched as Harold's mouth suddenly curved into a wolfish grin. Muscles bulged underneath the surface of his clothing, and he began to almost double in size. The man half-transformed to increase his power but keep his human appearance, and immediately Benjamin knew what was about to happen. There was someone down on the dance floor he was targeting, and he would leap off the balcony into the fray, pinning his prey and causing mass chaos amongst the clubbers.

There she was. A relatively young vampire, just a few hundred years old. She was stunning with naturally platinum-blonde hair, a voluptuous form, pale white skin and haunting blood-red eyes. Humans often mistook her for an albino. She was vampiric royalty, the daughter of one of the Old Families, and one of the many vying for a place in the political order of the faction. However, she had a very soft spot for partying. Back in the old days when there was less fighting between the factions, she and Harold had actually been close friends. But times changed, and he was completely loyal to his brethren.

Harold lifted his leg to brace against the railing and push himself off, but right as he leapt he let out a strange, strangled sound as he found his forward momentum halted. Instead he was pulled back over the ledge and slammed into the ground, Benjamin with his arms wrapped around the werewolf's torso.
"You don't want to do this, Benny," Harold growled, twisting to break free of his coworker's grasp and punching him in the face. Benjamin felt his nose break, but it wasn't the first time.
"That's my line, Harold," Benjamin said in return through gritted teeth, catching the werewolf's next punch in his palm, though it took every ounce of his strength to do so. "Think of what you're throwing away at the SIB."
Harold grabbed Benjamin by the shirt with both hands, claws digging into his skin, slamming him into the cinderblock wall at the far end of the room. "There are more important things at hand than the SIB," the creature replied simply. "Sorry, Benny." He prepared to strike, ready to rip the SIB agent's heart out, but Benjamin was faster. He drew his gun from the small of his back - a movement Harold recognized and reacted to in a fraction of a second. He knew what was in those bullets. Immediately he dropped Benjamin, who got a shot off and hit the werewolf in the calf as he fled, but before he could shoot again the creature was already over the ledge and into the now screaming mass of people.
 
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