The Value of Life and Death

I was too goddamn ballsy to scream…lucky me. The one time I actually had the right to be a girl and my own stubborn sense of pride wouldn’t let me. I made a mad dash for the dining hall but he caught me, dragging me back to the ledge.

“You know you can scream it you want, babe.”

I kicked in his arms, but it got me nowhere. “You know me, muffin, I’m not screaming unless I’m flat on my back.”

He laughed and it grated across my skin like sand paper. “Now that’s my little slut-bucket.”

“You always were a charmer.”

He turned me around and squeezed me between the rail and his body. “I missed you.”

“Bite me.”

He smiled flashing a bit of fang. “Do you really wanna go down that road?”

“So what are you gonna do, kill me out here with no one to witness it? That’s a bitch move.” Even to me it sounded like a desperate attempt to save myself.

“I don’t intend to kill you.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“Come on,” he whispered, beginning to drag me back inside. “Let’s have a dance.”

The minute we walked inside we ran into Roslyn. She froze when she laid eyes on Taylor. Her face struggled to put a smile on her lips. “How have you been, Taylor?” Her eyes darted to me for some form of help.”

“I’ve been fine, liebchen.” Once again he was speaking with an accent that wasn’t his. His eyes ran over her. “I can see that you’ve been doing well yourself.”

“My new life is suiting me just fine. What brings you here?”

“I had once owned a fine pair of whores,” this time he was speaking with an old English accent. “I came to collect what was taken from me.”

I watched Roslyn’s wolf hover just beneath her skin. ‘You never owned me, Taylor, you stole my Pack from me.”

“Yes, as I recall I did, and it was a good thing, because if you actually think about it I saved your life. They were one step away from killing you…or selling you into slavery. You should be grateful that I allowed you to live.”

The rumble in Roslyn’s cheat turned in to a full on growl and I looked up to see Ashley staring at us. He stood up and made his way towards us and I turned to Taylor. “My master is coming.”

“I am your master.” Taylor corrected.

“Taylor, you are on his turf, and as much as I would love for you to die tonight, I want no scandal.”

“Roslyn, is there a problem?” Ashley asked. He hadn’t quite reached us yet, but he sent his voice to us, exercising his power.

In a flash Roslyn’s wolf disappeared in her body and she held a polite face. “Fine, my lord, there is no disturbance.”

When Ashley finally came to stand before us, he hooked Roslyn around the waist, comforting her with just his touch. “And who are you?” His question directed to Taylor.

“An old friend of Esther’s family.”

“Are you now? You, know, from what I remember Esther never had a family. All I remember her telling me is about her past. She didn’t have a pleasant past.” Ashley’s power moved around us like electricity, and found it hard to believe that no one else in the dining hall felt it.

“I may be on your turf, Ashley,” Taylor started, “but I believe that is all the more reason for me to come packing.”

I started to look around the room, recognizing various faces from the House of Ortega. Form my count he had at least brought 20 to 25 werewolves.

“Yes. I noticed them when they came in. So what is it that you want, Mr. Taylor? Money, power…tell me and I will do my best to give it to you.”

Taylor snorted. “Look at him, ladies, the man is negotiating with me. I am posing a threat to his home, his life, and he’s negotiating with me. How low is that?”

“Ashley believes in a peaceful solution before there is violence.” I spoke. “So far it has worked out very well for his benefit and the benefit of those around him.”

Taylor’s grip tightened on my arm. “Here’s the deal, Ashley, you give me Esther and Roslyn and I’ll cause no harm to your guests…or you for that matter.”

“No.” Ashley said. “Unless they say they want to go, they’re not leaving.”

“Tell me, Esther,” Taylor put his lips right next to my ear and I almost vomited at the closeness. “What is the difference between serving him and serving me? I can't seem to grasp what it is. We both technically own you, though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t enforce his ownership they way I did, we feed you, we have you run our errands…we fuck you.” He stoked my neck and I shuddered, trying to repress my gag reflex. “Speaking of which, this girl gives the best head in the world, you should try her out. It’s especially sexy when she’s crying while you fuck her. Do you remember that?”

I tried to keep my face solemn, but it wasn’t working. I looked at Ashley and his face was peaceful. He smiled at me, and I wanted to wipe his face completely clean with a crisp right hook.

“You see,” Taylor continued, “these two don’t know what they want…they never have. You have to make them understand that some of the things we do for them are for their own good. We keep them safe from those who would choose to hurt them.”

Ashley smiled, his hand held out to me. I took it and he drew me to him. I was surprised that Taylor let me go. Once in Ashley’s arms he tipped my chin up and kissed me, soft and slow, enough to make me squirm yet I wanted more. I needed more. When he drew away I could barely open my eyes, but when I did, my knees almost gave out at what I sat in his face. His eyes were soft, a slight smile on his face, a single pink tinted tear trailed down his porcelain cheek. It was the most human expression I had ever seen on his face.

I suddenly tasted blood in my mouth and suddenly I knew. The one thing I had always hid from Ashley, the one memory I had to myself that I didn’t have to share was just taken from me. Ashley had bitten the inside of lip so softly that I didn’t detect it. He had lowered my shields and peered into the part of me that I had always kept from him: my past with Taylor.

Ashley looked up Taylor with a small smile on his lips. “I agree with your theory, however, as of this moment, you are part of that group of beings who would want to hurt them.”

Malick appeared out of nowhere and hooked his arm around Taylor’s neck. The whole ballroom stopped and Taylor’s goons pulled guns out of nowhere. “No one move!” One of them shouted, firing a couple of shots into our well painted ceiling. I actually saw Ashley flinched as a bullet pierced part of the painting of The Last Supper.

“If I were you, I’d release me before they start shooting at people.” Taylor grinned smugly and Malick tightened his hold.

“Let him go.” I touched Malick’s arm and he looked at me as though he had just realized I was in the room. “It’s okay…”

Malick released Taylor, who walked up on the platform, retrieving a gun from a member of his Pack. Cleaver was suddenly at my side, his hands casually hooked in the waistband of his pants. I looked around for Patricia, finding her sitting casually at the piano. Roslyn was still very close to Ashley, her face a mixture of pain and anger.

“Ashley,” I got his attention. “We’ll take care of this. You need to get all the delegates from the houses out.”

“Giving the orders now, are we?” He asked, a slight smirk on his face.

“I am trying to keep my master safe…that’s all.”

He nodded. “Are we still on for tonight?”

“We’ll see…”

Ashley moved through the crowd effortlessly, almost like a shadow. When he disappeared from my sight I turned to my crew. We too moved like shadows through the crowd as not to be seen by Taylor’s heavy security. We moved out into the hallway and froze when Damien, a member of Taylor’s pack, came around the corner. He laid eyes on Roslyn and smiled.

“Just who I came to see…How are you, Rose.”

I watched Roslyn flinch and ball her fists. “If you wanna live I suggest you get outta here now.”

“I’m supposed to be afraid of you?”

Malick began to move forward, but I stopped him. “This is a Lycan feud.”

Damien dropped his guns and knives. “I really missed you, Rose.”

“I wish I could say the same.” She lunged at him, her claws catching him in the throat. Blood spilled from the cut down his shirt.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me.” He gasped.

Roslyn marched over to Cleaver and took one of his guns. “I know.” She shot him on the stomach, then his knees. She emptied the clip into him and he went his hands and knees, gasping for air. A familiar smell rose to my nose and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

“Shit! Roz, he’s changing!”

She didn’t waste any time. She dug her whole hand into the cut in his neck and ripped his head clean off. Blood sprayed over like a shower and when she turned around everyone in the hallway paused…except for me. I knew she’d been capable of it. She stood poised in a warrior stance, her claws protruding from her hands like daggers, her teeth bared. She turned her eyes to me and I could see that the scared timid Roslyn had disappeared, and in her place stood Dimrey Lupus, the Mother of Wolves.

“You still in there, Roslyn?” Cleaver asked, his voice lined with an edge of fear.

“She’s fine.” I answered. “Malick help me out of my dress.”

“You didn’t bring a change of clothes, and it would take too long to go up to your room and find suitable clothing.” He answered.

“Yeah, I know,” I said, beginning to undo the binding in the back of the dress. I was soon tangled in the laces of my dress. “Malick!”

He came to me immediately and, with one swift movement, he tore the satin dress from my body, leaving me in my corset and lace. Cleaver gawked and Roslyn tapped his chin. “Shut your mouth.” She said softly.

“You are not gonna walk around in that!” Cleaver half screamed.

“Keep you voice down.” Roslyn reminded.

“This bothers you?” I asked, letting Malick hold me steady as I reached down to pull off my stilettos.

Cleaver looked at Malick for help. “It distracts you, doesn’t it?”

Malick looked like he didn’t understand.

“I cannot be the only one!”

“Cleaver calm down,” I hissed. “If I could put on more clothes I would, but I can't, so you’re just gonna have to deal.”

He pouted and it made my fists ball. We moved to a painting in the hallway, a larger version of the Mona Lisa, and Cleaver punched in a code on the numeric panel on the wall next to it. The painting opened like a door and imprinted in the wall behind it was a mass selection of weapons. I grabbed a belt of silver nitrate bombs and secured them around my waist, pulling as tight as it would go without hurting me. Next I reached for a pair of thigh holsters, and following that, two sawed off, iron, black shot guns. They were heavy, but I had trained with their weight since coming here. I could run 10 miles with them strapped to my thighs without loosing breath. I made sure I had three packs of bullets before I started to move down one of the hallways.

“Where are you going?” Cleaver asked.

“We’ll do better if we split up.” I called back.

“Esther.”

I turned and looked at Malick.

“I’m going with you.” He wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Fine.”

With five large knives strapped around his thighs and an axe strapped across his back, he and I started off on our own, leaving the others behind. Taylor and his pack had shut off all the lights in the house, and even the light coming in from the moon didn’t help much. Malick strode next to me as though we were talking a walk on the beach, his hands in his pockets. There was a small smile on his face that had me worried.

“Are you going to be a problem tonight?” I asked softly.

He looked at me puzzled. “No…I don’t to.” He shrugged. “I never know.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll do my best not to be trouble, but lately images have started to come back with more detail.” He shook his head. “It’s painful, E. It’s like they’re tearing the inside of my head…and every dream brings a reaction that I can't control.”

I stopped walking to look at him. “I wish there were something I could do to make it all go away.”

He shrugged again, but his speech was cut off by a piercing howl. It made the hairs in the back of my neck stand on end. The shadows behind us growled. I looked at a figure…a wolf, the eyes glowing. Malick turned as well. He looked at me then back at the werewolf.

“Do we run?” He asked.

“Can we make a sufficient stand here?” I asked back.

Malick looked around and shook his head. “He’ll kill us.”

I slowly reached for one of the nitrate bombs, and it was eerie to see the animal’s head follow my movements. He growled even more as I unhooked the bomb and pulled the release chain. It immediately made a long, high pitched beep, and the minute it left my hands, it exploded, sending needles of liquid metal shooting towards the werewolf. It hit him like a hammer, and he rose from his crouched position onto his legs. The metal would seep into fur, under the skin, into the bloodstream. From there it would work its way to the heart, disabling every major organ until it finally reached the brain, rendering the wolf into a seizure, a coma, and then death. But who knew how long that would take. Form what I saw, it only hit him. The werewolf looked at his chest them back at us. He roared and charged. Malick and I ran.

It was a little surreal to have a 300…maybe 400 pound animal with a bad attitude and killer teeth and claws chasing after you. The hunter had become the hunted and I didn’t like it. We rounded a corner only to run into Taylor. He looked at me and smiled, aiming a gun at us. I didn’t stop, and since Malick was following my lead, he didn’t stop either. We flew past Taylor and he fired a couple of shot at us, missing of course. He never really was a good shot. We kept running until we found our way into the art gallery.

“Oh…we have got to get outta here.” I whispered.

“Why?” Malick asked.

Before I could answer two very large werewolves came into the room.