Hellfire

Interval Fourteen

Lucius had been surprised that the doorway to Whelan's woods had been open. He assumed it would be tightly shut, any requests to enter stoutly ignored, but here he was, striding through the mossy woods. His bats shadowed him in a fierce number, a whisper of wings and flashes of shadows breaking the dull, rusted streetlamps, becoming increasingly alert the closer he drew to the run down house that had once stood with such pride. And Lucius found quickly that, what was even stranger, was Murray Whelan himself was waiting for him.

The big wolf stood in the mouth of the entryway with Nora and Banks by his side. Banks had an air of smugness about him which Lucius didn't like, while Nora was rigid as a post, her gaze fiercely fixed on nothing.

Lucius came to a pause, tension running through him as his bats clung to his shoulders, flicking their wings out in quiet threatening stances. Murray bore his gaze into him. He didn't like it. The eyes were clouded, the once piercing green now a muddy white, not from blindness but from sickness. Lucius sucked in the air, inhaling the dry woods, scenting nothing but the stink of werewolf, a heady, noxious mix of man and beast with an unhealthy taint clinging to it.

Lucius resisted the urge from drawing up his sleeves. He needed to be behaved until he knew where Ella was.

'Wha' do you wan', Vor'igern?' Whelan slurred, worse than before.

So much worse than a mere three weeks ago.

'My house was attacked today by Pendragons.' Lucius announced.

Whelan barked out a laugh. 'How'd they ge' passed you?'

He smiled thinly. He knew Murray was toying with him, his expression had that vicious gleam to it, but he played along all the same.

'That's irrelevant. What I wanted to inform you of is that Pendragons have been heavily active. Keep an eye on your own.'

That irritated the old wulver. He thumped his fist against his vast chest, a shiver of fur rippling over his torn skin.

'I don' need 'o be 'old how 'o keep my own safe, especially from the likes of you.' He snarled.

'You clearly do.' Lucius flashed his teeth, his eyes blazing beneath the edge of his trilby and his bats baring their little teeth. 'Amongst their numbers was a witch, a bear and a wolf. I didn't quite register who the wolf was at the time, not until Pendragons named a Whelan amongst their numbers. A golden wulver.' His bats hissed accusingly. 'One of your sons is known to have a golden pelt.'

Both Murray and Nora reacted. While Murray snapped his wolfish teeth, his beast in him shimmering beneath the surface, Nora had paled, her lips thinning and her claws digging in deep. Fear.

'Tha' son abandoned us years ago.' Whelan spat out, his body swelling with sheer rage. 'And tha' son has my respec' 'o regain.'

And what better way than to attack the Vortigerns and harm Morrigan, a vampire he hated so much more than himself.

Lucius had no doubts now. Whelan was behind this. Whelan had Ella.

But where?

'Where's Ella Harris?' Lucius asked.

He knew he was walking a fine line. Murray was clearly incredibly ill, a wolf who matched himself in strength, and he had a witch who knew how to get passed Lucius' defences. But he wanted a reaction. He wanted to see whether he'd lie.

He was surprised to see Whelan smiling; a big, toothy, ravenous grin.

'The girl. She's impor'an 'o your nephew.'

Lucius said nothing.

'I migh' remember something. Migh'.' Whelan barked softly, a cough that was flecked with blood. 'Bu' I'm sure, if you bring me wha' I wan', I can jog something in my memories.'