Melanie watched in horror as the large man in the trench coat aimed his pistol at Keith, only for the barrel to be deflected at the last moment, and the round to impact with his arm instead of his head. She watched as Keith tried to grab the skids of the helicopter only to fall, crashing into the lawn below, her screams filling the chopper until she felt a needle punch into the muscles of her butt, and suddenly a sense of cool jelliness came over her. She didn't fall asleep so much as go limp, unresisting as the men in the helicopter strapped her into a seat.

They flew for close to two hours, and while she could see the sun rising, she couldn't tell much more than that. Turning her head was an almost impossible effort, and the little bit she could see from the corner of her eye didn't tell her much. She thought they were flying north, but she could have been wrong. After setting down in an empty field, the men in the chopper unstrapped her and carried her into a waiting van, getting in behind her.

"Where are you taking me?" she finally was able to ask, her voice sounding like it was coming from a speaker a mile away.

"Don't concern yourself with things that you have no control over," the large man with the mirrored sunglasses said. "I suggest you get some sleep, actually. A woman in your condition needs it." Melanie found that her eyelids were getting heavy, and when another sharp jab from a needle went into her arm, she drifted off, the world going dark.

When she woke up, the first thing she noticed was how much warmer the air around her was. It had been chilly at the Lockwood Manor when she'd last been awake, but the air here was much warmer. She tried to open her eyes, but found she still couldn't move.

"How much longer is she going to be out?" a voice said below her, past her feet. Melanie assumed that meant she was lying down, although her sense of balance was still off, she couldn't be sure.

"It shouldn't be much longer. We had to inject her twice, the influence of her child on her physiology is greater than we'd anticipated. She should have dropped off immediately after the first shot. But a full blooded werewolf would have woken up by now." The answer came from another voice, a little bit to the left of the first one. She was definitely lying down, even if her body didn't detect it yet.

"Will the drugs have harmed her child? The Archbishop has approved my plan for it, and I don’t want it damaged. I need a healthy baby wolf for our cause."

"I don’t think so, Brother. The child comes from Alpha lines, and should be very strong. Honestly, if we had to we could probably perform a Cesarean now, and dispose of the woman. The child would have only a small chance of deformity."

"No, it is best if we make sure the child is born fully formed. Once it is, we have the best chance of developing the weapon that the Archbishop wants."

Melanie felt her fingers twitch, and in her belly, she felt a kick that was definitely the baby. Still, she tried to hold still, she wanted to hear what these men were saying about her.

"Brother, I know that the Archbishop is very wise, but I must give air to my concerns about this plan."

"Your concerns are noted, Brother, and have been overruled. Remember, understanding is not a prerequisite of obedience. Now, silence for now, it seems our guest is beginning to wake up. Good evening, Miss Richter."

Melanie gave up trying to pretend she was still sleeping and struggled to get her eyes open. The world was blurry, and she couldn't focus for a while, but when she could, she saw two men, one white, the other Hispanic, standing at the end of what looked like a standard queen sized bed. "Ah, there we are. I do hope you're feeling refreshed after your nap, you were out almost fifteen hours."

"Wh... where am I?" she said. She wanted to unleash a flood of questions but held back. She had been a cop for far too long to forget that such behavior was a sure sign of panic and a great way to get her questions ignored. It told her captors that she was scared and that she could be manipulated.

"You are in a secure facility, that is all you really need to know at this time," the white man said. "You are in the care of the Order of the Silver Bringers, or as your werewolf friends call us, the silberjagger. Welcome, and enjoy your stay."

"Why am I here?" she asked. "Why not just kill me?"

"Oh, that wouldn't be helpful to our cause at all, Miss Richter," the man answered, his lips playing with a smile. "Not at all."

"My name isn't Richter," she said, struggling to get up. She got halfway off the bed and sagged back, her arms still mostly Jell-O. "My name is Melanie Waldwyck."

"Eh, as you wish, although some of our order would say that since you never were properly married, the whole name thing doesn't work. I'm more of a pragmatist. Call yourself Richter, Waldwyck, Lockwood or Minnie Mouse, it doesn't change your situation. You are here, and you'll continue to be here for the next few months until your baby arrives."

"And then?"

The man shrugged. "That’s not for me to say. In the meantime, relax, and when you can sit up properly, please use the buzzer next to your bed. One of us will bring you some food, I'm sure you must be very hungry by now."

"Wait, I have more questions," Melanie began, stopping when both men turned and left the room. The door closed behind them, and she could hear the heavy clank as a deadbolt or something similar was shot. She was locked in.

While she waited for her limbs to start working again, Melanie slowly looked around the room. She was in what looked like a hotel room crossed with a prison cell. The mirror on the wall above the sink wasn't glass, but a highly polished steel she was used to seeing in cells, in order to prevent it being broken and used as a weapon or a suicide tool. The walls were also solid, with no windows to the outside to tell her more about her surroundings. The only ventilation was in the ceiling, an air duct that was very firmly sealed in, with the grating behind what looked like concrete fittings. Turning her head, she noticed that her bed was held together with the sort of locking screws and bolts that resisted removal, making disassembly nearly impossible without a cutting blade or a power tool.

On the other hand, the room was furnished like a normal hotel room. The furniture she could see was of decent quality and looked like wood other than the unique fasteners. The floor was carpeted, and while the carpet was cheap, it wasn't dirty or torn. All in all, it looked like she was in something akin to a mental ward.

Melanie thought about what she had heard. They weren't going to kill her immediately, that was for sure. However, they didn't care about her, they wanted her baby. Why?

In any case, it didn't really matter at the moment. She knew that if either Keith or Kimberly had survived the attack, they would find her, and only God himself might be able to stop the twin Alpha Lycans. Although if she had to lay money on it, she'd put money on the Waldwycks.