15
SERENA
It was quite a sight to see, really. A stronghold, or rather the ruins of one, in the brambled countryside just outside of Paris. Sure it was little more than crumbling mortar and moss-covered stone, but it was still beautiful in its own way. There was a a story here. A history, whispered every time the wind picked up and whistled its way through the castle’s shattered, broken teeth.
As much as I hated Europe, as an American I had to be jealous. Places like this simply didn’t exist in our world.
“What’s it called again?”
“Château de Bardenois,” Damien whispered. “And keep your voice down. Sound travels.”
The ride out of the city had been smooth and uneventful. We’d left before dusk and stopped to pick up some food on the way through — something doughy and delicious that I scarfed down before I even knew what it was. Damien lamented about not having had a good taco in way too long, and Broderick ultimately told him to shut up. But not until he’d mentioned it for the third time.
By the time we parked the truck — oddly with the keys still in it — I was ready for whatever happened next. And what happened next pretty much sucked… a two mile hike through a vine-choked forest, as the chill of darkness settled over our group.
A two mile hike that ended with Broderick suddenly instructing us to crouch down and stay utterly still.
“When do we move?” I asked again. My body was getting cold. We’d been hugging the side of a hill for the better part of an hour, and I was getting worried my ass was going to freeze to it.
“Not until it’s safe,” said Broderick.
“And when is—”
“We’ll tell you,” both men said at once, in perfect stereo.
I sighed and pulled the thick jacket Broderick had given me tighter around my shoulders. It smelled like him. I loved that part, even if I didn’t know quite what we were doing just yet.
Eventually I saw Damien’s brow crease, and he ducked down a little lower. Of the two of them, apparently, he had the better eyes.
“There. They’ve left the cathedral.”
“How many?”
“Three that I saw. Could be more.” There was a pause, and then Damien added “Not her, though.”
By her, I knew they meant Karessa. The woman who’d been an ex-lover to both of them… at the same time. The one they’d been bonded to. The one they were so strangely reluctant to mention.
Whatever history existed between the three of them, I could tell it ran deep. There was more than just the normal residual feelings left here — there was bad blood, too. The kind that hurt so badly it never fully went away, at least not at first. Not until you’d gotten on with—
“Come,” Damien said, motioning me over. “Look here.” He pulled me close and pointed slowly. Leaning in, I followed his finger. “See it? Beyond the inner bailey?”
I squinted into the darkness. Honestly, I couldn’t see shit.
“What the hell’s an inner bailey?”
“The second wall.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Those aren’t walls, my friend. They’re holes with a few stones around them.”
“Fine,” he sighed, adding a little laugh of his own. “The second broken wall.”
I looked again, and this time my eyes adjusted. Through the trees, past the broken ruins of the castle’s protective walls, I could see the smooth facade of what looked like an ancient church or citadel.
“That’s the cathedral you’re talking about?”
“Yes.”
The place looked in decent shape. Much better than the rest of the castle.
“And you lived in there?”
“In and beneath it,” Damien replied. “Not always, though. Only during the times we’d gather as a pack. The times when we’d—”
He stopped abruptly, and I realized Broderick was staring daggers at him. They’d trusted me with a lot so far, but apparently they weren’t going to share all their secrets.
That’s okay. I wasn’t exactly sharing all of mine, either.
“Anyway, what we’re looking for is in there. Or at least it should be.”
“And what are we looking for?” I asked, not bothering to hide the impatient tone in my voice. “We’ve come all this way and you still haven’t told me yet.”
Damien didn’t bother to get approval from Broderick this time. He just said it outright.
“We’re here for our totems.”
“Totems?”
“Yes,” he said hesitantly. Then, after a sigh: “It’s difficult to explain.”
I blew warmth into my hands. Damn I wish I’d brought gloves. “Try me.”
“Well, we weren’t always Lycanthropes. We weren’t born this way, we were made.”
“So… you were bitten?”
“Yes,” said Damien. He looked to Broderick. “and no.”
After Xiomara’s call, I decided to humor them. It wasn’t that I believed them — the bigger part of me actually didn’t — it was more that I’d been deceived before. When it came to the Order, it wasn’t uncommon to be sent into the field thinking one thing, and then finding out something entirely different. It could easily be I was being told to go along with something because my contacts believed it.
Truth was, they could cry wolf all they wanted. The only thing that mattered to me was completing my mission, and getting the hell out of here.
“Getting bitten isn’t at all like it is in the movies,” Damien explained. “It’s more a spiritual change than a physical one, at least initially.”
“So you don’t foam at the mouth?” I quipped. “Grow a snout? Break out of your skin, and—”
“Do you want to laugh, or do you want to listen?”
Broderick’s look was stern and parental. Under normal circumstances I might’ve flipped him off, but we were deep in the woods, about to pull a panty-raid on some ancient castle. Besides, I guess I was kind of was being an asshole.
“Alright,” I said. “Go on.”
“The initial change is different from the rest,” said Damien. “Something slips from you. Not your soul exactly, but a small part of you that makes you fully human. That energy ends up residing in a nearby physical object, usually something of importance to you.”
Broderick nodded. “This object becomes your totem,” he said. “It anchors you to the life you once lived. To the form you once were.”
“So it’s an object?” I asked. “Like… a personal item?”
“Exactly,” said Damien. “For me, it was a carved jade pendant — some stupid trinket I’d bought on the boardwalk when I was a kid. I wore it around my neck for years, while surfing. I never took it off.”
I looked at Broderick. He wasn’t speaking.
“His was more… personal,” Damien said for him.
The wind shifted again, judging by the direction of the swaying trees. Broderick noticed it immediately. He’d been watching the wind ever since we left the truck.
“And why don’t you have these things?” I asked. “Why didn’t you take them when you left?”
“Because Karessa kept them,” said Damien bitterly.
Suddenly I understood. “To lure you back,” I reasoned. “To keep you from leaving the pack for good.”
“Yes.”
As I sat there a strange wave of sensation washed over me, all thick and heavy. The best way to describe it would be a deep empathy. A perception of sadness and loss, of heartbreak and pain. And yet there was an anger there too. A seething, deep-seeded loathing buried beneath layer upon layer of conflicted memories.
Damien’s expression changed to one of concern. “Are you alright?”
I couldn’t speak. Not yet. I was too busy soaking it all in. These feelings radiated from the two of them physically, as surely as light or heat. The sorrow came from them both. But the fury… that was entirely on Broderick’s end.
I felt it all — every mournful bit of their suffering. And whatever they were experiencing, I could see it in their eyes now… they knew I was too.
Broderick took my hand. He did it tenderly, and with an empathy of his own.
“Now you know.”
He was right — I did know. I just didn’t know how.
“What have you done to me?” I asked him, rubbing my head.
He shrugged his big Scandinavian shoulders. “We already told you.”
Damien was peering over the hill again. His body language was confident and relaxed.
“Alright, I think we’ve waited long enough.”
They stood up. Keeping their heads low, they motioned for me to follow.
“What happens,” I asked with a whisper, “if you don’t get these totems back?”
They glanced at each other again, then back at me. “It breaks the last link with our past lives,” said Broderick.
“Which means?”
I’d asked the question already knowing I wouldn’t like the answer.
“We eventually lose the ability to remain human.”