The Nosferatu Adventures
page 269, chapter 269
Out of Time
"Ugh!" our heroine slapped the muck off her hands. "I hate dirt." she mumbled as she continued to dig. It was well into the middle of the night, the air hot and sticky from the lack of coolness. "I think this might be deep enough." she grumbled some more, tossing the shovel down. Quentin said nothing as he climbed back out of the hole grabbing the container. Holding the glass medical jar up to his face, he turned it around in the moonlight.
"You really think this is going to work? That Pan is dead?" he shook the jar watching the formaldehyde slosh. "It looks like a walnut."
"Careful! Don't drop it!" the female screamed.
"You're immortal. What's it going to do to you? Besides, formaldehyde is in pretty much everything in small doses."
"Yeah, but it's also made up of silver, which is dangerous to vampiric creatures and werewolves. Which is why that little bit of tissue there smoked when you dropped it in." she huffed as she reached for the pail of cement; she gestured for him to place the jar into it. "And he's a god. I don't expect him to be dead-dead. I just expect this to contain him for the next hundred years or so."
"Until what? Someone digs him up?" he replied as he started to shovel the dirt back on top of the hole. Our heroine shrugged nodding. "We need to get this finished before the sun comes up. Last thing we need is to be caught." the red haired male commented. Our heroine sniffed as she caught the scent of sweat beginning to roll off the male. It was enough to make her nose twitch.
"That and I need to get back to Edric. The sire bond will have him climbing the walls by now, it's been over three hours any longer and he'll come looking."
"So, how does that work? I mean, if you're sired to Dagan, and Edric is sired to you..."
"Dagan and I are no longer bonded in that way. I mean, so much crap has happened that he didn't have a choice, he had to get Bacchus to undo the bond. I don't blame him, I really don't." she gave a little giggle as she filled in more of the dirt. "It took a while for us to be affected to the intensity Edric and I have already been. I think that's because Dagan outsmarted himself right off the bat." she said half dreamily.
"What do you mean?" Quentin asked as he let out a defeated grunt sitting down in the dirt.
"Dagan has this thing about dreamcatchers. And he makes them out of whatever he can find. Twigs, bones, stones, feathers, hair...he had made one for whatever reason and tied it to my wrist when he thought I was dead the first time we were separated." Quentin shrugged forcing our heroine to sigh closing her eyes. "He'd used his own fur for the strings. So there was a piece of him with me. We were technically never separated the first few days. It wasn't till much later that we discovered how bad the sire bond can make you react. Hard to believe it was eleven years ago already."
"May I just say, gross." he looked up at her from the corner of his eyes. "Okay, I've got to ask. Please don't kill me, and I mean that literally...but..." he gestured towards her. "I mean, no offense but, you're not exactly Marylin Monroe or anything. So how is it..."
"I get asked that all the time, don't worry about it." she shrugged sighing yet again. Our heroine felt she might as well just stop talking and only communicate with grunts and sighs. "Two things. One, as Finn pointed out years ago, I'm a limited supply."
"Finn...the one guy from the mirror right?" Quentin nodded to himself answering his own question. "Continue."
"Right, Finn. He pointed out back those eleven years ago, that supernatural females were few and far between. There are almost no female shapeshifters at all, which is why Loki wanted me to begin with. Male werewolves can mate with any kind of female they want, but they can only reproduce with a female werewolf. That, and there are two ways to become pack alpha. One way is to challenge another to the death, the other is to have a supernatural female for a mate. The second thing is, I'm descendant from both Loki and Bacchus's bloodlines. Which in short..."
"Makes you a god." he interrupted her.
"Makes me a god. And that is catnip to pretty much everyone and everything in itself."
Quentin snorted. "So, then these guys don't actually love you, love you? It's a spell or something?"
She stopped shoveling and stood there leaning on the handle squinting at the human male. "I'm wishing I hadn't agreed to not kill you. You're really getting on my nerves." she growled. "Or something. Look dude, even...even the strongest love spells run their course. Then, it's how you chose to respond you know."
"And how are you choosing to respond? I mean, I just stood here listening to you talk about Dagan, and I've seen you react to hearing Arthur was in trouble. How you were around that other guy Vlad, and how you were with Edward. Learning about your being with Loki..."
"Dude, enough of the play by play. Would you like an little table in the corner over there and a microphone..." she gestured with the end of the shovel to where he was still sitting in the dirt.
"So, what's next?" he asked scratching at his ankle.
"I don't want to think about what's next. I just want to grab a shower." she grunted nodding to herself that the container was safely buried for the time being. "Let's go."
The two men stood in line at the club. The one with the jet black hair and beard casually brought the cigar to his mouth, dragging deeply before blowing the smoke into the face of the club's bouncer. "We're on the list, check again. V-A-N -H-E-L..." he stabbed his finger into the clipboard after each letter, before the bouncer turned away from them completely. "Hey! Hey I'm talking to you..."
"Let it go man." the bleached blonde said as he took a half step out of the crowd, reaching for him.
"I don't want to let it go. I want to be in that club." he protested as he felt himself being dragged a few steps down the street. "Where are we? I think you got us lost." he continued to pout. Sighing, the bleached blonde shook his head reaching into the little pink flamingo printed fanny pack, retrieving a compass and map. "What are you doing with that?"
"Grandpa always said to be prepared." Landin remarked.
"Yeah but why can't you use a digital map like a normal person?" Ruthven continued to mock him.
"They are unreliable. Besides, if you can track something on the phone, you can be tracked." He stopped abruptly, turning a half circle. "The hotel is this way." he pointed left without looking. They made it another two blocks before Landin stumbled, grabbing onto his cousin's shoulder. "Something doesn't..." he looked around the nearly empty street the back of his neck feeling like a million pin pricks.
"No. You are not going to start with that crap again. I heard enough of it from Grandpa. You're not a medium, you can not detect ghosts because there is no such thing." Ruthven puffed on his cigar some more out of habit. He started to turn when he stumbled himself, the back of his neck feeling like he'd just jumped into a too cold shower. Both found themselves staring captivated by the female figure down the street. She was walking with a red haired male towards an all night coffee shop. "Besides, who's ever heard of a ghost that drinks espresso?" he gestured suddenly feeling a heaviness in the pit of his stomach. The cell phone in his back pocket buzzed, causing him to jump letting out a small yelp. Answering it, the dark haired male closed his eyes in frustration. "Seward. What do you want?"
"Hey guys. I just finished installing the computer system into Grandpa's old car. Thought you might like to know." the teenager was practically dancing around on the other end of the call.
"Great. We'll swing by in the morning." Ruthven snarled at him as he ended the call. "Unless your ghost hunting will get in the way." he remarked over his shoulder towards Landin.
"I'm telling you, somethings up around here. Grandpa moved here for a reason..." the bleach blonde said suddenly exhausted.
"Yeah, he was senile. All those years claiming he was hunting supernatural creatures. Next you're going to tell me that he was on to something..." he puffed on the cigar again.
"He was on to something." Landin said tilting his head to the side. "Otherwise, he wouldn't have sent us his journals." he slapped his one hand on the back of Ruthven's shoulder. "Come on. I need sleep. We'll finish this in the daylight." he headed again towards the hotel. Ruthven sniffed, shrugging as he turned to follow. But something was still sitting uneasy in the pit of his stomach as he turned full around, watching the doorway of the coffee shop for a long second; before turning back around to catch up to his cousin.
Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your heroine...me(straight up story. Yeah, Paragon Pro Wrestling was on, so we've got vampire hunters now...)