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Previous: "Fugitives"
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Next: to be released
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Series 13 Episode 7
"Trust"
Quick-thinking. Light on his feet. Calm and collected.
Edmund’s pulse was racing, but he was relishing the challenge. Ed’s years of experience were a valuable resource, and he knew a surprising amount about a werewolf’s abilities, too. Maybe Dylan was right? He must be one of the good guys.
“Remember, you can hear things that no human can hear, so use that to your advantage. Listen and react quickly. You can hear a finger against a gun. A knife slide out of a pocket,” Ed advised.
“What about me? I can’t hear things all the time,” Jonah questioned. They were positioned side-by-side in the centre of the warehouse, facing Ed, keen to learn how best to protect themselves.
“I can’t hear things ever,” Leah added, unhelpfully stood to the side.
“Then you need to keep your wits about you,” Ed replied, “Focus is key. The second you lose focus, your guard goes down and you’re on the back foot. Focus keeps you ahead of the game.”
“It would help if we knew what I am,” Jonah sighed, losing enthusiasm.
“Hey,” Edmund consoled. Jonah was the only person who could bring out a softer side to him. He was protective of Jonah just as much as himself, “I barely know what I am either. We can figure it out. Both of us.”
“Jonah,” Sammi called over from behind, “I think I can help there. Fancy a chat?”
“Alright, take ten,” Ed decided, freeing them both up for Sammi. Jonah looked terrified. Edmund could sense the worry against his skin, tickling the hairs on his arm. This was a big moment for Jonah, and Edmund was going to support him the whole way.
Edmund’s pulse was racing, but he was relishing the challenge. Ed’s years of experience were a valuable resource, and he knew a surprising amount about a werewolf’s abilities, too. Maybe Dylan was right? He must be one of the good guys.
“Remember, you can hear things that no human can hear, so use that to your advantage. Listen and react quickly. You can hear a finger against a gun. A knife slide out of a pocket,” Ed advised.
“What about me? I can’t hear things all the time,” Jonah questioned. They were positioned side-by-side in the centre of the warehouse, facing Ed, keen to learn how best to protect themselves.
“I can’t hear things ever,” Leah added, unhelpfully stood to the side.
“Then you need to keep your wits about you,” Ed replied, “Focus is key. The second you lose focus, your guard goes down and you’re on the back foot. Focus keeps you ahead of the game.”
“It would help if we knew what I am,” Jonah sighed, losing enthusiasm.
“Hey,” Edmund consoled. Jonah was the only person who could bring out a softer side to him. He was protective of Jonah just as much as himself, “I barely know what I am either. We can figure it out. Both of us.”
“Jonah,” Sammi called over from behind, “I think I can help there. Fancy a chat?”
“Alright, take ten,” Ed decided, freeing them both up for Sammi. Jonah looked terrified. Edmund could sense the worry against his skin, tickling the hairs on his arm. This was a big moment for Jonah, and Edmund was going to support him the whole way.
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“Alright, day one,” Dylan opened the meeting. One night had passed in the warehouse, and though everyone had adapted well to their less-than-ideal accommodation, it was vital that they actively worked towards getting back to normality.
It wasn’t going to be easy, though. The FBI had power. They had eyes and ears everywhere. Fighting against an organisation like that was near-impossible, so Dylan was keen to get to the heart of the problem: Agent Murray.
“Has anyone told Edmund yet?” Freddie queried.
“No, he’s got enough to worry about,” Jono insisted, “He’s busy with Ed right now so he won’t be listening in.”
“Are we even sure it’s the same Murray?” Josh verified. The four of them were sat on the floor in a circle, tucked away in a glass side room on the balcony level, “I mean, it’s a common name.”
“It’s a bit of a coincidence,” Freddie shrugged.
“It has to be,” Dylan replied, “Freddie, you saw her. Do you think she knew what you are?”
“No, she couldn’t have,” Freddie instinctively answered, before reflecting, “She recognised Jeremy, so I’d guess she knows what he is, so maybe she knew me too?”
“Can’t we ask Brett? I mean, we have someone on the inside,” Jono suggested.
“No, they can’t lose this job,” Freddie firmly replied, “Brett’s already put a lot on the line to help us. For all we know, they’ve already caught on to that.”
“Freddie’s right. Brett is a last resort. We need to do this ourselves. We need to meet Agent Murray, on neutral ground,” Dylan decided.
“Where is neutral when she’s with the goddamn FBI?” Josh worried.
“I said we needed Yasmin,” Freddie interjected.
“She’s got more important things to worry about,” Josh defended.
“Alright, alright,” Jono mediated, “How about the high school? It’s Sunday, so it will be empty.”
“Our bench,” Dylan reminisced, “Let’s do it. Now, we just need to get the message out there.”
“I’ve got a laptop and a VPN. I’ll email her,” Freddie smiled enthusiastically, “High school at noon. Come alone.”
“She won’t come alone,” Josh mentioned.
“Neither will we,” Dylan glowed his eyes, “A pack is never alone.”
Every part of Yasmin’s body felt uncomfortable. The idea of having such a conversation was something she’d long tried to bury. As far as she was concerned, it was a need-to-know situation. Unfortunately, that now extended to her mum.
The pack. The supernatural. Her own nix identity. These were part of an entirely separate life to what Yasmin shared with Autumn. It felt personal. It was a cause she’d fought hard to protect and defend for ten years of her life. It enveloped everyone she was close to. How could she get that across to someone she’d been keeping it from?
Nevertheless, she had to find a way. Autumn sat opposite her in an empty side room, with only uncomfortable metal chairs and a tatty wooden table to furnish it. Yasmin had to tell the truth, and she had to do it on her ow, no matter how much she craved Josh’s support.
“Alright. A lot of this is going to sound insane,” Yasmin began. Words were her friend, but she was struggling to string sentences together.
“More insane than living in a warehouse, hiding from the FBI?” Autumn interrupted.
“If this is going to work, I need you to listen, mom. When I’ve finished, you can ask me any questions you have. Before then, you must listen to me, and know that what I’m saying is entirely factual,” Yasmin laid the ground rules out. If Autumn wanted the truth, she needed to work with her daughter. Autumn nodded silently.
“The first thing you need to know is that everyone in this warehouse is a friend. They’re all safe. They’re all just the people you think they are, except some of them are a little different,” Yasmin explained, “Werewolves are real, mom. Dylan, Josh, Lily, Freddie, Jeremy and Edmund are all werewolves. Jono was one too, but, well, long story. Dylan is the alpha, the leader of the pack. He keeps us all safe. I’m not a werewolf, but I’m something. I’m a nix. I can control water, and I have visions sometimes. I don’t totally understand it myself, still. Anyway, you need to know that dad…the reason he’s in jail is because he tried to kill Dylan. He was a werewolf hunter. He was dangerous, and he has other people who idolise that. One of them is in the FBI, which is why we’re in hiding.”
A moment of increasingly uncomfortable silence followed.
“You can ask questions now,” Yasmin gave her approval.
“Your father…” Autumn attempted to process.
“Yes,” Yasmin affirmed.
“Um, I need some space,” Autumn stood up and dashed out of the room, without even a glance back at Yasmin.
Yasmin’s heart sunk. How she expected Autumn to react, she wasn’t sure, but that wasn’t promising. It was precisely why she had kept it a secret for so long in the first place.
Gently caressing her cheek, Lily was in awe at the baby girl in the car seat beside her. It hadn’t yet been twenty-four hours since they first met – properly, anyway – and it still hadn’t fully sunk in. Nine months of preparation still didn’t feel like enough.
It felt wrong that she didn’t have a crib to sleep in, or toys to get to grips with. A warehouse was no place for a newborn baby. One car seat and some formula supplies that Sammi picked up were all she had, but it was all she needed for the time being. With any luck, they’d be back home in no time. Lily was already buzzing to show her all the sights around the lakehouse, even if she was too young to absorb them.
“Cup of tea,” George delivered Lily’s long-awaited beverage, sitting cross-legged on the other side of the car seat, “She’s so quiet. Barely cried at all so far.”
“She’s calmer than anyone. Blissfully unaware,” Lily considered.
“Sometimes I think that would be better, but life always finds a way to throw a curveball,” George replied, “If we weren’t worried about werewolves, you know we’d find something else.”
“Speak for yourself, I’m cool as a cucumber,” Lily smirked.
“There’s a good name for her. Cucumber,” George chuckled.
“Oh boy. You’ve been a dad for a day and you’re already making dad jokes,” Lily teased.
“We do need to give her a name, though,” George pondered, “I was wondering, how about Belle?”
“As in, Belinda? Your mom?” Lily realised, her heart warmed by the sentiment.
“Yeah. Belle Ruben. It sounds strong. Like a warrior and a princess at the same time,” George beamed.
“I love it,” Lily agreed, looking back to face the beautiful girl beside her, “Welcome to the world, Belle. You’ve got a lot to look forward to.”
Yet, amongst the pride, Lily couldn’t help worrying. Was Belle a werewolf? When would they be able to know?
Though she wasn’t a werewolf, or anything supernatural, Sammi could tell Jonah was feeling frustrated. Nothing mattered more to a teenager than coming to terms with your identity. Sammi knew that better than most; the truth about her father had thrown her entire sense of self into a spiral. Jonah deserved answers.
After all, Sammi had found her tribe amongst the supernatural. Being human wasn’t a weakness. She had a place in the pack, and for the first time, it made her feel like she belonged to something. The unwavering, unconditional trust of the pack was the making of her, and she hoped it would be the same for Jonah.
Sammi sat down at the side of the main warehouse space, her back against the cold hard wall. Jeremy was already beside her; Freddie and George had given them permission to tell Jonah the whole story, and there was nobody Sammi wanted by her side more than her twin brother. Jonah and Edmund sat cross-legged, facing them.
“What’s this about?” Jonah nervously questioned. Sammi noticed Edmund’s hand was barely a millimetre away from Jonah’s, the closest they could be without actually touching.
“We think we might know what you are,” Jeremy replied.
“You know the scratch you got from Jono? It didn’t turn you,” Sammi explained, “It couldn’t have.”
“Wait, what does that mean?” Edmund queried.
“It means we think you’ve inherited this,” Sammi clarified.
“From dad?” Jonah raised an eyebrow.
“No, from your mom,” Jeremy answered.
“But I never knew my mom,” Jonah replied.
“Jonah, listen. Jono scratching you couldn’t have turned you. He wasn’t an alpha anymore. He wasn’t even a werewolf, claws or no claws,” Sammi explained, “But it could have ignited something you already had. Something you were born with. Something you have, but George and Freddie don’t.”
“But, it’s not like I can ask her. She didn’t have any family either,” Jonah processed, before pausing for a moment of silence, “So, what am I?”
“It’s called loup-garou,” Sammi recalled, “It’s similar to a werewolf, except you’re not affected by the full moon. You can transform at will, you just need to learn how. There’s no loss of control, there’s no bloodlust.”
“Transform?” Edmund queried, “Like the way we transform?”
“Maybe more, we don’t know,” Jeremy answered, “The Bestiary is useful, but it doesn’t know everything. It certainly doesn’t get everything right.”
“But I don’t know how to change. I’ve only done it once,” Jonah stressed, his cheeks glowing an overwhelmed red and his eyes sporting a small avalanche of tears.
“When you saved me,” Edmund realised, “Emotions. It has to be emotions, right? Intense emotions make you change.”
“Maybe,” Sammi nodded, “We can figure it out, alright? There’s no rush.”
“It took me years to learn control, and I was born a werewolf,” Jeremy added.
“Um, can I have some time?” Jonah frowned, trying to hold himself together.
“Sure, you know where we are,” Sammi approved with a supportive smile. She wanted Jonah to feel as comfortable as possible, but that was a tough ask for any teenager.
Every sense on high alert, Dylan’s guard had never been higher. To keep their location a secret, he and Jono had exited the bunker tunnels further along than Freddie and Josh, and the two pairs had made their separate ways to the high school. They each had a burner phone per pair, with the final one in Ed’s possession at the warehouse, in case of emergencies. They’d taken every precaution possible, but Dylan wasn’t resting on his laurels.
Being sat at the bench the pack had once called their own was surreal. It was tattier than ever, the wood rotting from years of rainfall seeping into the growing number of cracks, but it held a lot of sentimentality for Dylan. So many significant moments in his life had occurred there. As far as he was concerned, this was his good luck charm for the meeting he was about to have.
Jono, Freddie and Josh were spread out nearby, hiding, keeping watch, and ready to fight if needed. The rest of the school site was eerily silent; it was unusual to be there without any teachers on patrol, or self-described “cool” kids truanting their lessons, but this was essential to Dylan. There could be no collateral damage.
A firm stomp of a boot registered In Dylan’s earshot. The crunch of excess grit and stones between the boot and the playground surface. It grew in volume as Dylan caught sight of a slender figure, dressed in a crease-free black suit, approaching.
Agent Murray.
Edmund’s previous foster parent.
Dylan had so much he wanted to ask. How could she lock a teenager in his room all day? Why foster a child if you have no intention of loving them? He could have interrogated her all day, but emotions couldn’t come into it. Not yet.
“Dylan Drummond,” he stood up and held his right hand out as she arrived at the bench.
“I know who you are, and you know who I am. Let’s cut the crap,” Murray abrasively replied, taking a seat at the bench without shaking Dylan’s hand. She appeared around forty years old, her hair pulled back fully into a tight bun, exposing her harsh, sharp facial features, in addition to the intense glare pointed directly at Dylan like a laser on full beam.
“Alright then, what do you want from us?” Dylan asked, “There’s obviously something in this for you if you’re going to all this effort.”
“Perceptive. I can see why you’re the alpha,” Murray replied, “But you’re not the only one.” Murray’s eyes glowed a fearsome red, much like Dylan’s own. Suddenly, things started to make sense.
“You bit Edmund,” Dylan realised, though the answers were only presenting him with more questions, “Why?”
“He was there. Young, healthy, fast. An asset,” Murray justified. Dylan listened closely to her heartbeat as she spoke. Not one jump or irregular rhythm. Either it was the truth, or she was a well-rehearsed compulsive liar.
“An asset to you, not your pack,” Dylan realised, reading between the lines as best he could.
“You’re good at this,” Murray patronised, her smug smirk persisting, “Yes, he was a tool. A valuable tool. I knew he wouldn’t stick around, but he ran before I bit him. I had to track him down, but my plan still worked. He has no idea that I’m an alpha. His alpha.”
“You’re not his alpha,” Dylan defiantly replied, “Edmund led you to another pack. Our pack. Then what? Destroy us?”
“The cult has its own plans,” Murray replied.
“Forsyth,” Dylan nodded, “Does he know about this? His daughter is part of our pack, you know.”
“A nix daughter to a hunter father. It’s a complicated dynamic,” Murray danced around the question, “He knows the cult exists, but he doesn’t know the details. It’s his ideology that lives on.”
“I’d argue an alpha being part of a hunting cult is an even more complicated dynamic” Dylan hit back.
“I like to get what I want. I’m not particular about how I get it,” Murray shrugged.
“And what do you want, then?” Dylan asked the most vital question, “You’ve got Ashton. You know he was murdered, but the file is blank. You killed him, didn’t you? To set us up?”
“No, Dylan,” Murray replied, “I set you up.”
The penny dropped. Dylan realised the whole plan.
“You don’t have a pack, do you?” Dylan figured, his voice quivering.
Approaching the table, a man in a white lab coat, of average build and a similar age to Murray, came to stand beside her. From a distance, Dylan heard Jono nervously whispering, “He was the nurse who grabbed Lily.”
Dylan was on red alert.
“I wouldn’t quite say that. I’m sorry. I know you said to come alone but my husband couldn’t be left out of the conversation,” Murray introduced.
“Nor could mine,” Dylan matched her game, summoning Jono from around the corner. Nervously, Jono joined Dylan by his side.
“Your human lover does not threaten us,” Murray scoffed, her eyes glowing once more, her husband’s sinful blue eyes shining beside her, “Confess to the murder of Ashton, and your friends, and lover, can continue their pathetic lives.”
“As part of another pack,” Mr. Murray chimed in, “Our pack.”
“Never,” Dylan resisted.
“We would never join you anyway,” Jono added, tightly squeezing Dylan’s hand.
“Then you’ll all go down,” Murray smirked once more, “One way or another.”
WHOOSH!
An arrow fired past Dylan, narrowly missing his ear.
A tranquiliser dart.
“Be grateful the FBI want you alive for now, Dylan, but the real bullets will be used if necessary,” Murray laughed. She was deranged. Insane. Dangerous.
Another dart missed Dylan’s arm by a whisker. Jono pulled Dylan away, meeting Freddie and Josh around the corner before running. Dylan’s heart was beating faster than ever. He was backed into a corner, and the entire pack was in danger because of him. He couldn’t – and wouldn’t – risk their lives.
There was a significant part of Autumn that believed she was part of some elaborate scheme. A trick. A prank at her expense. It had to be, right? Everything Yasmin said was ridiculous. Laughable. Unbelievable.
Yet, Dylan and Jono’s mothers appeared to be going along with it, not to mention Sheriff Taylor. Why would they be involved in something so silly? None of them appeared fazed by anything that was going on.
Desperate for some answers – proper answers, this time – Autumn gravitated to the kitchenette off the side of the entrance. She’d seen Caroline and Helen go in just a couple of minutes earlier, and she trusted them to tell the truth. They were all a similar age and had known each other for long enough to spare each other the insincerity.
“Tea? Coffee?” Caroline smiled, skipping a traditional greeting.
“Have you got anything stronger?” Autumn half-chuckled.
“A lot to process, right?” Helen queried.
“All Yasmin’s told me is some story about werewolves,” Autumn sighed, “Does she think I’m stupid?”
“No,” Caroline quickly interjected, sharing a knowing glance with Helen, “Trust me, it was a lot to take in when Dylan told me, too, but it’s true. All of it.”
“Wait, so Dylan’s actually a werewolf?” Autumn checked the details, “And Josh?”
Caroline nodded.
“And Lily?”
Helen nodded.
“And Yasmin’s a…” Autumn trailed off, “I can’t remember the name.”
“A nix,” Caroline answered, “I know, I hadn’t heard of it either.”
“How is this so normal to you?” Autumn asked.
“Because we’ve known for a while,” Helen answered, “It wasn’t easy for me back then. Even less easy for Steve.”
“Why didn’t she tell me before? Does she not trust me?” Autumn internalised. She knew she wasn’t as close with Yasmin as a mother and her daughter could be, but she thought Yasmin at least felt comfortable talking to her.
“Maybe she was protecting you by keeping you out of it?” Caroline wondered, “Though Dylan is my baby, I learned that he knows this world a lot better than me, so I trust his judgement. Yasmin is intelligent, and this isn’t new to her. She’ll have been navigating it in a way that works for her.”
“Besides her father wasn’t as understanding as us,” Helen reminded.
“I never knew anything about what he did,” Autumn quickly justified, “We weren’t together for long.”
“I know,” Caroline soothed, “There’s a lot to process, but Yasmin has the answers you need, and we’re here for you to help you make sense of it.”
Autumn paused. Caroline was right. Perhaps she needed to trust Yasmin more before expecting it back? It was no wonder they’d felt increasingly distant for a long time.
Overwhelmed, Jonah dipped into the first side room he could see. He’d tried so hard to push the thought of being supernatural to the back of his mind, but there was no hiding any longer.
The idea of his mum being supernatural was one that blindsided Jonah. He knew so little about her, only from what his dad had told him about their two years together. He couldn’t resonate with the detail, but he couldn’t argue against it either. Where could he go for answers? Proper answers, as opposed to the pack’s general method of making it up as they went along.
“Hey,” Leah timidly knocked on the outer wall, smiling in the space a door was supposed to occupy, “I saw you run in here. Figured you may need a friendly ear.”
“You could say that,” Jonah scoffed, “Just when you think you know everything about yourself.”
“Is this about what Sammi said, or about Edmund?” Leah queried.
“Edmund? Why would it be about him?” Jonah’s defences rose rapidly, like an inbuilt reflex.
“Oh, come on. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. It’s as subtle as a brick through a window,” Leah chuckled, “I know you’ve never mentioned liking guys before.”
“Alright, maybe I haven’t figured everything out, but Edmund is…Edmund,” Jonah shrugged. He knew he could be honest with Leah, but it felt exposing to be so vulnerable out loud, “And, you know, he’s got a lot going on. Plus, I don’t even know if he likes guys.”
“I bet he does. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Protects you,” Leah justified.
“He does,” a third voice joined the conversation. Behind Leah, Edmund stepped into view.
“Um, I’ll leave you both to it,” Leah winked. Jonah’s stomach was performing somersaults. What was happening? His brain was fried, but one thing he was certain of was that he had never felt anything like the way he felt about Edmund.
“Sorry,” Jonah blushed.
“Don’t be,” Edmund quickly replied, entering the room and immediately taking Jonah’s hands, initiating the most intimate eye contact Jonah had ever felt before.
Before Jonah could say anything else, Edmund leaned in and kissed him. Jonah’s nerves faded immediately. Their lips felt like they were always made to be touching each other. Jonah’s hands buried themselves in Edmund’s shaggy hair, while Edmund’s hands maintained a firm grip on Jonah’s lower back, keeping them both firmly in position.
Whatever Jonah was suddenly felt less important. All he wanted was Edmund. He wanted that moment to last forever.
“Are you sure about this?” Yasmin checked. Lily figured the discontent was painted across her face, but she appreciated the check-in. It was a big step at such an early stage. Both she and George had to be ready for the answers they were going to receive, one way or the other.
“Yes,” Lily affirmed, composing herself.
“Yes,” George repeated, his arm securely and comfortingly around Lily’s waist. On the table on front laid Belle, wrapped in a pink blanket to keep her tiny body as warm as possible in the chilly warehouse. On the other side of the table, Yasmin faced them, with Sammi and Jeremy either side of her.
“Are you sure you’re happy doing this?” Jeremy verified, “Because I don’t mind, you know, helping out.”
“She’s my daughter. It should be me,” Lily assured, “Just a little nick. She’ll barely feel it.”
“What do we do if it heals?” Sammi questioned.
“The same thing we’d do if it doesn’t. Take care of her, and deal with things as they occur,” George confidently answered, “It changes nothing, it just means we can prepare.”
“You’ve got this,” Yasmin gave Lily some encouragement. Having friends and family beside her was a comfort.
Lily extended her claws for the first time in nine months. Cautiously, she moved her index finger towards Belle’s miniscule hand. With the least force possible, she slightly scratched Belle’s skin. A tiny dribble of blood surfaced, but Belle remained fast asleep.
Lily’s eyes were transfixed. What happened in the coming seconds were crucial to their journey as parents. Was Belle a werewolf like her mum, or human like her dad? Neither was a given, particularly considering even Sammi and Jeremy were different, and they were twins.
Within seconds, the wound healed, leaving no trace of blood or scarring.
“She’s a werewolf,” Lily announced, taking a deep breath, “Like me.”
Panting, Dylan was relieved to be back at the warehouse. He, Jono, Freddie and Josh had sprinted the whole way back, and as far as he could tell, nobody had followed them. The warehouse was the closest place to home that Dylan had, for the moment, and stepping through the bulky door felt like reaching safety.
Yet, he couldn’t fully relax. Murray’s words were still processing in his mind. Dylan always knew he would fight for his pack regardless, but he was also prepared to take a hit for them if it meant keeping them safe.
“Welcome back,” Ed greeted as much of the pack gathered by the entrance, “Are you all okay?”
“Just about,” Dylan shrugged, “But I don’t think we were followed.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Josh called, keeping the door slightly ajar, “I can hear people, further down the tunnel. FBI, for definite.”
“Shit,” Jono worried.
“What do they want?” Ed stressed.
“Me,” Dylan replied, “Murray wants me out of the way. Then she can have a pack. A ready-made pack she can be the alpha of.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Ed warned, predicting Dylan’s next sentence.
“But I can keep you all safe. Alive,” Dylan justified.
“Living without you is not living,” Jono added, “Trust me, I tried it.”
“Dylan, this is your pack. Everyone is here because you earned their trust. This is where you prove they made the right decision,” Ed advised.
“Okay,” Dylan pondered aloud, “So, we fight. We defend the warehouse, and we expose Murray.”
“That’s the Dylan I know,” Ed proudly smiled. Dylan didn’t share the sense of pride yet, though. He was ready to defend everyone in that warehouse, but he wouldn’t be content until every single one of them was safe.
Nobody could be left behind.
It wasn’t going to be easy, though. The FBI had power. They had eyes and ears everywhere. Fighting against an organisation like that was near-impossible, so Dylan was keen to get to the heart of the problem: Agent Murray.
“Has anyone told Edmund yet?” Freddie queried.
“No, he’s got enough to worry about,” Jono insisted, “He’s busy with Ed right now so he won’t be listening in.”
“Are we even sure it’s the same Murray?” Josh verified. The four of them were sat on the floor in a circle, tucked away in a glass side room on the balcony level, “I mean, it’s a common name.”
“It’s a bit of a coincidence,” Freddie shrugged.
“It has to be,” Dylan replied, “Freddie, you saw her. Do you think she knew what you are?”
“No, she couldn’t have,” Freddie instinctively answered, before reflecting, “She recognised Jeremy, so I’d guess she knows what he is, so maybe she knew me too?”
“Can’t we ask Brett? I mean, we have someone on the inside,” Jono suggested.
“No, they can’t lose this job,” Freddie firmly replied, “Brett’s already put a lot on the line to help us. For all we know, they’ve already caught on to that.”
“Freddie’s right. Brett is a last resort. We need to do this ourselves. We need to meet Agent Murray, on neutral ground,” Dylan decided.
“Where is neutral when she’s with the goddamn FBI?” Josh worried.
“I said we needed Yasmin,” Freddie interjected.
“She’s got more important things to worry about,” Josh defended.
“Alright, alright,” Jono mediated, “How about the high school? It’s Sunday, so it will be empty.”
“Our bench,” Dylan reminisced, “Let’s do it. Now, we just need to get the message out there.”
“I’ve got a laptop and a VPN. I’ll email her,” Freddie smiled enthusiastically, “High school at noon. Come alone.”
“She won’t come alone,” Josh mentioned.
“Neither will we,” Dylan glowed his eyes, “A pack is never alone.”
Every part of Yasmin’s body felt uncomfortable. The idea of having such a conversation was something she’d long tried to bury. As far as she was concerned, it was a need-to-know situation. Unfortunately, that now extended to her mum.
The pack. The supernatural. Her own nix identity. These were part of an entirely separate life to what Yasmin shared with Autumn. It felt personal. It was a cause she’d fought hard to protect and defend for ten years of her life. It enveloped everyone she was close to. How could she get that across to someone she’d been keeping it from?
Nevertheless, she had to find a way. Autumn sat opposite her in an empty side room, with only uncomfortable metal chairs and a tatty wooden table to furnish it. Yasmin had to tell the truth, and she had to do it on her ow, no matter how much she craved Josh’s support.
“Alright. A lot of this is going to sound insane,” Yasmin began. Words were her friend, but she was struggling to string sentences together.
“More insane than living in a warehouse, hiding from the FBI?” Autumn interrupted.
“If this is going to work, I need you to listen, mom. When I’ve finished, you can ask me any questions you have. Before then, you must listen to me, and know that what I’m saying is entirely factual,” Yasmin laid the ground rules out. If Autumn wanted the truth, she needed to work with her daughter. Autumn nodded silently.
“The first thing you need to know is that everyone in this warehouse is a friend. They’re all safe. They’re all just the people you think they are, except some of them are a little different,” Yasmin explained, “Werewolves are real, mom. Dylan, Josh, Lily, Freddie, Jeremy and Edmund are all werewolves. Jono was one too, but, well, long story. Dylan is the alpha, the leader of the pack. He keeps us all safe. I’m not a werewolf, but I’m something. I’m a nix. I can control water, and I have visions sometimes. I don’t totally understand it myself, still. Anyway, you need to know that dad…the reason he’s in jail is because he tried to kill Dylan. He was a werewolf hunter. He was dangerous, and he has other people who idolise that. One of them is in the FBI, which is why we’re in hiding.”
A moment of increasingly uncomfortable silence followed.
“You can ask questions now,” Yasmin gave her approval.
“Your father…” Autumn attempted to process.
“Yes,” Yasmin affirmed.
“Um, I need some space,” Autumn stood up and dashed out of the room, without even a glance back at Yasmin.
Yasmin’s heart sunk. How she expected Autumn to react, she wasn’t sure, but that wasn’t promising. It was precisely why she had kept it a secret for so long in the first place.
Gently caressing her cheek, Lily was in awe at the baby girl in the car seat beside her. It hadn’t yet been twenty-four hours since they first met – properly, anyway – and it still hadn’t fully sunk in. Nine months of preparation still didn’t feel like enough.
It felt wrong that she didn’t have a crib to sleep in, or toys to get to grips with. A warehouse was no place for a newborn baby. One car seat and some formula supplies that Sammi picked up were all she had, but it was all she needed for the time being. With any luck, they’d be back home in no time. Lily was already buzzing to show her all the sights around the lakehouse, even if she was too young to absorb them.
“Cup of tea,” George delivered Lily’s long-awaited beverage, sitting cross-legged on the other side of the car seat, “She’s so quiet. Barely cried at all so far.”
“She’s calmer than anyone. Blissfully unaware,” Lily considered.
“Sometimes I think that would be better, but life always finds a way to throw a curveball,” George replied, “If we weren’t worried about werewolves, you know we’d find something else.”
“Speak for yourself, I’m cool as a cucumber,” Lily smirked.
“There’s a good name for her. Cucumber,” George chuckled.
“Oh boy. You’ve been a dad for a day and you’re already making dad jokes,” Lily teased.
“We do need to give her a name, though,” George pondered, “I was wondering, how about Belle?”
“As in, Belinda? Your mom?” Lily realised, her heart warmed by the sentiment.
“Yeah. Belle Ruben. It sounds strong. Like a warrior and a princess at the same time,” George beamed.
“I love it,” Lily agreed, looking back to face the beautiful girl beside her, “Welcome to the world, Belle. You’ve got a lot to look forward to.”
Yet, amongst the pride, Lily couldn’t help worrying. Was Belle a werewolf? When would they be able to know?
Though she wasn’t a werewolf, or anything supernatural, Sammi could tell Jonah was feeling frustrated. Nothing mattered more to a teenager than coming to terms with your identity. Sammi knew that better than most; the truth about her father had thrown her entire sense of self into a spiral. Jonah deserved answers.
After all, Sammi had found her tribe amongst the supernatural. Being human wasn’t a weakness. She had a place in the pack, and for the first time, it made her feel like she belonged to something. The unwavering, unconditional trust of the pack was the making of her, and she hoped it would be the same for Jonah.
Sammi sat down at the side of the main warehouse space, her back against the cold hard wall. Jeremy was already beside her; Freddie and George had given them permission to tell Jonah the whole story, and there was nobody Sammi wanted by her side more than her twin brother. Jonah and Edmund sat cross-legged, facing them.
“What’s this about?” Jonah nervously questioned. Sammi noticed Edmund’s hand was barely a millimetre away from Jonah’s, the closest they could be without actually touching.
“We think we might know what you are,” Jeremy replied.
“You know the scratch you got from Jono? It didn’t turn you,” Sammi explained, “It couldn’t have.”
“Wait, what does that mean?” Edmund queried.
“It means we think you’ve inherited this,” Sammi clarified.
“From dad?” Jonah raised an eyebrow.
“No, from your mom,” Jeremy answered.
“But I never knew my mom,” Jonah replied.
“Jonah, listen. Jono scratching you couldn’t have turned you. He wasn’t an alpha anymore. He wasn’t even a werewolf, claws or no claws,” Sammi explained, “But it could have ignited something you already had. Something you were born with. Something you have, but George and Freddie don’t.”
“But, it’s not like I can ask her. She didn’t have any family either,” Jonah processed, before pausing for a moment of silence, “So, what am I?”
“It’s called loup-garou,” Sammi recalled, “It’s similar to a werewolf, except you’re not affected by the full moon. You can transform at will, you just need to learn how. There’s no loss of control, there’s no bloodlust.”
“Transform?” Edmund queried, “Like the way we transform?”
“Maybe more, we don’t know,” Jeremy answered, “The Bestiary is useful, but it doesn’t know everything. It certainly doesn’t get everything right.”
“But I don’t know how to change. I’ve only done it once,” Jonah stressed, his cheeks glowing an overwhelmed red and his eyes sporting a small avalanche of tears.
“When you saved me,” Edmund realised, “Emotions. It has to be emotions, right? Intense emotions make you change.”
“Maybe,” Sammi nodded, “We can figure it out, alright? There’s no rush.”
“It took me years to learn control, and I was born a werewolf,” Jeremy added.
“Um, can I have some time?” Jonah frowned, trying to hold himself together.
“Sure, you know where we are,” Sammi approved with a supportive smile. She wanted Jonah to feel as comfortable as possible, but that was a tough ask for any teenager.
Every sense on high alert, Dylan’s guard had never been higher. To keep their location a secret, he and Jono had exited the bunker tunnels further along than Freddie and Josh, and the two pairs had made their separate ways to the high school. They each had a burner phone per pair, with the final one in Ed’s possession at the warehouse, in case of emergencies. They’d taken every precaution possible, but Dylan wasn’t resting on his laurels.
Being sat at the bench the pack had once called their own was surreal. It was tattier than ever, the wood rotting from years of rainfall seeping into the growing number of cracks, but it held a lot of sentimentality for Dylan. So many significant moments in his life had occurred there. As far as he was concerned, this was his good luck charm for the meeting he was about to have.
Jono, Freddie and Josh were spread out nearby, hiding, keeping watch, and ready to fight if needed. The rest of the school site was eerily silent; it was unusual to be there without any teachers on patrol, or self-described “cool” kids truanting their lessons, but this was essential to Dylan. There could be no collateral damage.
A firm stomp of a boot registered In Dylan’s earshot. The crunch of excess grit and stones between the boot and the playground surface. It grew in volume as Dylan caught sight of a slender figure, dressed in a crease-free black suit, approaching.
Agent Murray.
Edmund’s previous foster parent.
Dylan had so much he wanted to ask. How could she lock a teenager in his room all day? Why foster a child if you have no intention of loving them? He could have interrogated her all day, but emotions couldn’t come into it. Not yet.
“Dylan Drummond,” he stood up and held his right hand out as she arrived at the bench.
“I know who you are, and you know who I am. Let’s cut the crap,” Murray abrasively replied, taking a seat at the bench without shaking Dylan’s hand. She appeared around forty years old, her hair pulled back fully into a tight bun, exposing her harsh, sharp facial features, in addition to the intense glare pointed directly at Dylan like a laser on full beam.
“Alright then, what do you want from us?” Dylan asked, “There’s obviously something in this for you if you’re going to all this effort.”
“Perceptive. I can see why you’re the alpha,” Murray replied, “But you’re not the only one.” Murray’s eyes glowed a fearsome red, much like Dylan’s own. Suddenly, things started to make sense.
“You bit Edmund,” Dylan realised, though the answers were only presenting him with more questions, “Why?”
“He was there. Young, healthy, fast. An asset,” Murray justified. Dylan listened closely to her heartbeat as she spoke. Not one jump or irregular rhythm. Either it was the truth, or she was a well-rehearsed compulsive liar.
“An asset to you, not your pack,” Dylan realised, reading between the lines as best he could.
“You’re good at this,” Murray patronised, her smug smirk persisting, “Yes, he was a tool. A valuable tool. I knew he wouldn’t stick around, but he ran before I bit him. I had to track him down, but my plan still worked. He has no idea that I’m an alpha. His alpha.”
“You’re not his alpha,” Dylan defiantly replied, “Edmund led you to another pack. Our pack. Then what? Destroy us?”
“The cult has its own plans,” Murray replied.
“Forsyth,” Dylan nodded, “Does he know about this? His daughter is part of our pack, you know.”
“A nix daughter to a hunter father. It’s a complicated dynamic,” Murray danced around the question, “He knows the cult exists, but he doesn’t know the details. It’s his ideology that lives on.”
“I’d argue an alpha being part of a hunting cult is an even more complicated dynamic” Dylan hit back.
“I like to get what I want. I’m not particular about how I get it,” Murray shrugged.
“And what do you want, then?” Dylan asked the most vital question, “You’ve got Ashton. You know he was murdered, but the file is blank. You killed him, didn’t you? To set us up?”
“No, Dylan,” Murray replied, “I set you up.”
The penny dropped. Dylan realised the whole plan.
“You don’t have a pack, do you?” Dylan figured, his voice quivering.
Approaching the table, a man in a white lab coat, of average build and a similar age to Murray, came to stand beside her. From a distance, Dylan heard Jono nervously whispering, “He was the nurse who grabbed Lily.”
Dylan was on red alert.
“I wouldn’t quite say that. I’m sorry. I know you said to come alone but my husband couldn’t be left out of the conversation,” Murray introduced.
“Nor could mine,” Dylan matched her game, summoning Jono from around the corner. Nervously, Jono joined Dylan by his side.
“Your human lover does not threaten us,” Murray scoffed, her eyes glowing once more, her husband’s sinful blue eyes shining beside her, “Confess to the murder of Ashton, and your friends, and lover, can continue their pathetic lives.”
“As part of another pack,” Mr. Murray chimed in, “Our pack.”
“Never,” Dylan resisted.
“We would never join you anyway,” Jono added, tightly squeezing Dylan’s hand.
“Then you’ll all go down,” Murray smirked once more, “One way or another.”
WHOOSH!
An arrow fired past Dylan, narrowly missing his ear.
A tranquiliser dart.
“Be grateful the FBI want you alive for now, Dylan, but the real bullets will be used if necessary,” Murray laughed. She was deranged. Insane. Dangerous.
Another dart missed Dylan’s arm by a whisker. Jono pulled Dylan away, meeting Freddie and Josh around the corner before running. Dylan’s heart was beating faster than ever. He was backed into a corner, and the entire pack was in danger because of him. He couldn’t – and wouldn’t – risk their lives.
There was a significant part of Autumn that believed she was part of some elaborate scheme. A trick. A prank at her expense. It had to be, right? Everything Yasmin said was ridiculous. Laughable. Unbelievable.
Yet, Dylan and Jono’s mothers appeared to be going along with it, not to mention Sheriff Taylor. Why would they be involved in something so silly? None of them appeared fazed by anything that was going on.
Desperate for some answers – proper answers, this time – Autumn gravitated to the kitchenette off the side of the entrance. She’d seen Caroline and Helen go in just a couple of minutes earlier, and she trusted them to tell the truth. They were all a similar age and had known each other for long enough to spare each other the insincerity.
“Tea? Coffee?” Caroline smiled, skipping a traditional greeting.
“Have you got anything stronger?” Autumn half-chuckled.
“A lot to process, right?” Helen queried.
“All Yasmin’s told me is some story about werewolves,” Autumn sighed, “Does she think I’m stupid?”
“No,” Caroline quickly interjected, sharing a knowing glance with Helen, “Trust me, it was a lot to take in when Dylan told me, too, but it’s true. All of it.”
“Wait, so Dylan’s actually a werewolf?” Autumn checked the details, “And Josh?”
Caroline nodded.
“And Lily?”
Helen nodded.
“And Yasmin’s a…” Autumn trailed off, “I can’t remember the name.”
“A nix,” Caroline answered, “I know, I hadn’t heard of it either.”
“How is this so normal to you?” Autumn asked.
“Because we’ve known for a while,” Helen answered, “It wasn’t easy for me back then. Even less easy for Steve.”
“Why didn’t she tell me before? Does she not trust me?” Autumn internalised. She knew she wasn’t as close with Yasmin as a mother and her daughter could be, but she thought Yasmin at least felt comfortable talking to her.
“Maybe she was protecting you by keeping you out of it?” Caroline wondered, “Though Dylan is my baby, I learned that he knows this world a lot better than me, so I trust his judgement. Yasmin is intelligent, and this isn’t new to her. She’ll have been navigating it in a way that works for her.”
“Besides her father wasn’t as understanding as us,” Helen reminded.
“I never knew anything about what he did,” Autumn quickly justified, “We weren’t together for long.”
“I know,” Caroline soothed, “There’s a lot to process, but Yasmin has the answers you need, and we’re here for you to help you make sense of it.”
Autumn paused. Caroline was right. Perhaps she needed to trust Yasmin more before expecting it back? It was no wonder they’d felt increasingly distant for a long time.
Overwhelmed, Jonah dipped into the first side room he could see. He’d tried so hard to push the thought of being supernatural to the back of his mind, but there was no hiding any longer.
The idea of his mum being supernatural was one that blindsided Jonah. He knew so little about her, only from what his dad had told him about their two years together. He couldn’t resonate with the detail, but he couldn’t argue against it either. Where could he go for answers? Proper answers, as opposed to the pack’s general method of making it up as they went along.
“Hey,” Leah timidly knocked on the outer wall, smiling in the space a door was supposed to occupy, “I saw you run in here. Figured you may need a friendly ear.”
“You could say that,” Jonah scoffed, “Just when you think you know everything about yourself.”
“Is this about what Sammi said, or about Edmund?” Leah queried.
“Edmund? Why would it be about him?” Jonah’s defences rose rapidly, like an inbuilt reflex.
“Oh, come on. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. It’s as subtle as a brick through a window,” Leah chuckled, “I know you’ve never mentioned liking guys before.”
“Alright, maybe I haven’t figured everything out, but Edmund is…Edmund,” Jonah shrugged. He knew he could be honest with Leah, but it felt exposing to be so vulnerable out loud, “And, you know, he’s got a lot going on. Plus, I don’t even know if he likes guys.”
“I bet he does. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Protects you,” Leah justified.
“He does,” a third voice joined the conversation. Behind Leah, Edmund stepped into view.
“Um, I’ll leave you both to it,” Leah winked. Jonah’s stomach was performing somersaults. What was happening? His brain was fried, but one thing he was certain of was that he had never felt anything like the way he felt about Edmund.
“Sorry,” Jonah blushed.
“Don’t be,” Edmund quickly replied, entering the room and immediately taking Jonah’s hands, initiating the most intimate eye contact Jonah had ever felt before.
Before Jonah could say anything else, Edmund leaned in and kissed him. Jonah’s nerves faded immediately. Their lips felt like they were always made to be touching each other. Jonah’s hands buried themselves in Edmund’s shaggy hair, while Edmund’s hands maintained a firm grip on Jonah’s lower back, keeping them both firmly in position.
Whatever Jonah was suddenly felt less important. All he wanted was Edmund. He wanted that moment to last forever.
“Are you sure about this?” Yasmin checked. Lily figured the discontent was painted across her face, but she appreciated the check-in. It was a big step at such an early stage. Both she and George had to be ready for the answers they were going to receive, one way or the other.
“Yes,” Lily affirmed, composing herself.
“Yes,” George repeated, his arm securely and comfortingly around Lily’s waist. On the table on front laid Belle, wrapped in a pink blanket to keep her tiny body as warm as possible in the chilly warehouse. On the other side of the table, Yasmin faced them, with Sammi and Jeremy either side of her.
“Are you sure you’re happy doing this?” Jeremy verified, “Because I don’t mind, you know, helping out.”
“She’s my daughter. It should be me,” Lily assured, “Just a little nick. She’ll barely feel it.”
“What do we do if it heals?” Sammi questioned.
“The same thing we’d do if it doesn’t. Take care of her, and deal with things as they occur,” George confidently answered, “It changes nothing, it just means we can prepare.”
“You’ve got this,” Yasmin gave Lily some encouragement. Having friends and family beside her was a comfort.
Lily extended her claws for the first time in nine months. Cautiously, she moved her index finger towards Belle’s miniscule hand. With the least force possible, she slightly scratched Belle’s skin. A tiny dribble of blood surfaced, but Belle remained fast asleep.
Lily’s eyes were transfixed. What happened in the coming seconds were crucial to their journey as parents. Was Belle a werewolf like her mum, or human like her dad? Neither was a given, particularly considering even Sammi and Jeremy were different, and they were twins.
Within seconds, the wound healed, leaving no trace of blood or scarring.
“She’s a werewolf,” Lily announced, taking a deep breath, “Like me.”
Panting, Dylan was relieved to be back at the warehouse. He, Jono, Freddie and Josh had sprinted the whole way back, and as far as he could tell, nobody had followed them. The warehouse was the closest place to home that Dylan had, for the moment, and stepping through the bulky door felt like reaching safety.
Yet, he couldn’t fully relax. Murray’s words were still processing in his mind. Dylan always knew he would fight for his pack regardless, but he was also prepared to take a hit for them if it meant keeping them safe.
“Welcome back,” Ed greeted as much of the pack gathered by the entrance, “Are you all okay?”
“Just about,” Dylan shrugged, “But I don’t think we were followed.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Josh called, keeping the door slightly ajar, “I can hear people, further down the tunnel. FBI, for definite.”
“Shit,” Jono worried.
“What do they want?” Ed stressed.
“Me,” Dylan replied, “Murray wants me out of the way. Then she can have a pack. A ready-made pack she can be the alpha of.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Ed warned, predicting Dylan’s next sentence.
“But I can keep you all safe. Alive,” Dylan justified.
“Living without you is not living,” Jono added, “Trust me, I tried it.”
“Dylan, this is your pack. Everyone is here because you earned their trust. This is where you prove they made the right decision,” Ed advised.
“Okay,” Dylan pondered aloud, “So, we fight. We defend the warehouse, and we expose Murray.”
“That’s the Dylan I know,” Ed proudly smiled. Dylan didn’t share the sense of pride yet, though. He was ready to defend everyone in that warehouse, but he wouldn’t be content until every single one of them was safe.
Nobody could be left behind.
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Previous: "Fugitives"
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Next: to be released
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