Truce and Lies

Grant: proposition

My father pulled up in a similar car to my mother's this morning. He hurried to the porch and wrapped me in an ill-advised hug. My vision dimmed a little as I could feel the want to sink my fangs into my father's neck.

"Dad," I squirmed. "I don't want to bite you."

He let me go with a sigh. "Sasha shot you? Truly?"

I showed him the hole in my sleeve and the dried blood. He shook his head, sitting down on the porch swing. I took a seat on the opposite railing, willing my bloodlust to calm down. I could maintain control, I thought. I just had to focus. Aidan put an arm around my shoulders, but of course, being around Aidan never made me less hungry.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"Stefa told me you were probably here," he said. "And I was worried. You can't feed off Conor now, so how are you doing?"

"I've been better," I admitted. "But have been hunting, feeding off the pack. We're fine."

"Oh."

"When did you talk to Stefa?" I inquired.

"Yesterday," he said. "She came into the Chicago office with Conor. That woman is formidable. Though speaking of, that's the other reason I flew up here so suddenly."

"Okay," I replied warily. I didn't like this line of conversation.

"So Stefa's clan is holding peace in the Midwest, at least for now. There's a vampire clan trying to assert dominance by murdering humans in Chicago. The agency won't send any hunters because we're too short handed and it's basically a suicide mission for a human. But you aren't human."

"Dad..."

"We need help, Grant," my father cut me off. "Even if you hadn't killed a dozen hunters, you were one of our best team leaders and we're struggling."

"Is this some sort of guilt trip?" I questioned sharply.

"What? No. You're just the only person who could find this vampire nest in all of Chicago. Four people are dead, and who knows how many more. Stefa can't hold the Midwest forever. She said they're having a clan council meeting soon and it could go poorly."

"Something dangerous," Aidan murmured.

"What?" my father inquired.

"Conor called to say that he was doing something dangerous. I'll bet that it was this council meeting."

"He didn't happen to say where it was taking place?" my father hoped.

"No." Aidan glanced toward the house and then at me with a frown.

"Dad, I can't go with you," I said. "Werewolf blood means I can go outside, but without that I would be stuck skulking dark corners until sunset. And there's no way you can get enough human blood for me to not go on a murdering spree if I'm drinking is human or animal."

"I could come," Aidan suggested.

"No," both my father and I said.

"Well, I'm hardly going to let you go without me," Aidan told me. "And you need werewolf blood. I'm a werewolf; I have blood."

I opened my mouth, hoping that an argument would come out. Nothing did, mostly because Aidan looked so confident faced with my father. Six month ago, Aidan would have been dead before we could have a conversation, I realized to my shame. I would have never gotten so close to a werewolf to be able to talk to him.

"Aidan, there will be hunters," I told him. "Hunters that will want you dead. Hunters that will probably want me dead."

"I'm not letting you leave without me," he replied. "Not to mention, we don't know if Ralph and Mel will let us go. This is all kind of sudden, Peter."