Clouded Vision

Clouded Vision, Chpt 12, prt II

chapter 12

Part II

Adair wore a wicked smile, his eyes full of hate. Beside Adair was a female human, and behind him were two humans, guns poised at his head. A recliner stood in the background, the alley they were standing in cleared of rubbish.

"You got humans involved?" Vince growled in disbelief.

Adair's grin stretched across his face in a demented sneer. "Of course not." He snapped. "Use your nose."

The scent that swirled around them, stronger yet the same as in the forest and allies. It wasn't of wolf, but definitely not human. Vincent glared at the creatures. "What the hell are these things?" he demanded.

"There's quite a large hole in werewolf history you know."

"What are you talking about."

"Have you noticed we look nothing like the humans think we do? Not even our lunar form compares."

"So?"

"How about common myths? That a human can transform into a werewolf if they are bitten, for example?"

"Human fear made up that myth."

"Have you ever wondered the purpose for out lunar form?" Adair's eyes glowed with excitement. "I discovered that purpose. I can save our kind."

"Then these are..."

"These are the true werewolves from human myth. Wolfmen."

"They transform? Like us?"

"Only during the full moon."

Vincent shook his head. "What the hell. What the hell are you trying to do?"

"Rebuilding our species of course. This is what we're meant to do. What our lunar form is for."

Vincent shook his head. "They aren't our kind."

"No matter what they are, they're on our side now, and they'll protect us while we gain back our numbers."

"You really think this is going to work?"

"Of course it will." Adair strode closer. "Bu...I do need your...help." The sentence was growled with clenched fists.

"Because..."

"We need numbers to keep alive. Each individual is essential. As much as I hate you, I need you."

Vincent leaned back with a blank stare. "Kill me then. I want no part."

Adair's face dropped. "But this is what you want. What you desire most."

Vince smiled grimly. "You have no idea what I desire."

Adair's grin returned. "Oh, but I do. I know quite a bit about you actually."

Vincent smirked. "You can't label my name on a folder and think you know my thoughts."

Adair's grin grew wider. "In a war you need to learn to use your resources, not bury them. Especially when you're trying to keep that resource from your enemy. And that's what this is. Remember that we have a connection? While you buried it in the back of your brain, I poked through the barrier you put up. Not enough to really mess with your head or kill you, but just enough to look through your memories and thoughts. Picked and plucked through your brain as you slept."

"Then you must know that I didn't kill my pack." Vince snarled through bared teeth.

Adair shrugged. "You blame yourself for their deaths; therefore you are to blame."

"How much does he know?" Vincent wondered with dread. All of his secrets, laid down to Adair without his consent. Humiliation ate his heart and swept up his throat. It came out as a snarl. The two humans raised their guns automatically closer to his head. Adair smirked. Strong wire cords were strung around his hands and feet. Perhaps in one fluid movement Vince could leap like a spring upon Adair. But what damage could he do as a human? Grow his nails? It was more likely Vincent would be shot before he even reached Adair. Vince glared at Adair with venomous hate. Adair returned the stare indifferently, then turned around and strolled away, his steps clinking across the pavement. The wolf woman followed with adoring eyes. He patted her head, and she wriggled with pleasure. Poor fool.

Vincent leaned back against a wall and relaxed. Now that Adair was gone he could properly think and plan an escape route. Vincent looked up the barrel of the gun as expressionlessly as the man wielding it. He had frighteningly pale skin, and black liquid eyes of fire held Vince's bright yellow ones. His eyes were like those of a snake. Animalistic. Long fingers wrapped the handle, sharp nails darker than human on the trigger. Vincent was sure he wouldn't fire the gun unless he tried to flee or fight. The other man was equally pale. His eyes trained on Vince were also liquid pools of darkness, but there was something lurking there. Greed. Cruelty. Two emotions that were never in the eyes of true werewolves. How fast would this man pull the trigger?

"Would you shoot if I transformed?" Vincent asked. There was no response, so Vince took it as a yes. The shot probably wouldn't kill, but would immobilize. A sensation Vincent didn't care to experience. The tiles on the cobblestone ground were cracked, water pooled in small concrete dips. Rats hovered on the outskirts, twitching nervously, banished from their homes but too smart to try to take them back. Vincent tried his chains, bored, to see how strong they were. Too strong for his to snap. The iron around his feet, too, was unbreakable. The wolfmen watched him, their stares unwavering, their guns still poised to strike Vincent's head. Didn't they ever tire? By the appearance of the walls, this alley was nearly ancient in human years, perhaps one of the first built. Right in the middle of town. Vincent wondered if the wolfmen knew the allies as well as him. It was certainly a distinct possibility. The wolfmens' eyes were clear and focused. Vince shifted his position, and the guns followed. Vincent wondered what Adair told them about him, if anything. He considered attempting conversation with them, but rejected the idea. Maybe later, when their guns lowered a fraction. He could feel his knife still in his trench coat, soothing his nerves with its cold silver edges. Why had they not taken the knife from him? Vince shrugged off the question; even with the dagger Vincent and his tied hands couldn't be a threat.

A throbbing still bothered Vince's head, making it difficult to think. Suddenly drained of energy, he laid on his side and closed his eyes, feeling glares. Where is Adair? Vincent wondered. Didn't he want to gloat in front of his prisoner? Vince had rejected Adair's proposition; there was no reason to keep him. A strong throb startled his brain. Vincent felt exhausted by it all, and boredom bored through his head. He drifted away, feeling bliss for the moment.