the
wolves.
“The Incarnate has been living in the foster
care of a convent for some time. This girl is, now, fourteen.
Within the next year, our sources tell us she will be moved to a
facility that houses at least a dozen other adolescent children
displaced by the system. At her current residence, there is minimal
security and optimal conditions for extraction. Of the next place
she is headed, the same cannot be said.”
Bernadette’s mouth drew into a thin, pressed
line. The creases around her eyes deepened as she narrowed her gaze
further on the Alpha.
As she directed her words to Stephen, the
witch’s voice projected to the back of the room where Cyrus, Neal,
and Angel stood. She didn’t waste a blink acknowledging their
presence, but they loomed nonetheless. Cyrus, over a foot taller
than his Alpha, wore a characteristically grim expression hidden
beneath a thick golden beard flecked with grey. Beside him was
Neal. Neal’s broad chest and equally large stature were yet another
dominant force. His chocolate skin was made darker by the glower he
cast on the witch. Though he was easily the coolest of the three
soldiers, his demeanor was no less threatening. The hottest head
among them was Angel who stood to Cyrus’ other side. Angel’s
expression did nothing to mask his frustration. His nostrils flared
and the scar that sliced through his eyebrow seemed to pulse in an
aggravated twitch.
“We have tried, in vain, to bring her into
our family. We have appealed to her caretakers to no avail. They do
not understand the urgency of the matter, nor do they wish to take
it upon themselves to intercede with her unfurling. With so little
time left to spare, we now turn to you, Stephen, and your… men . Will you help us?”
Between the wolves, a conversation was
silently taking place. Communicating through their telepathic link
as a pack, they debated the witch’s request. Everyone in the
preternatural community had heard stories about the Incarnate. But
that’s just it, they were all stories. No one in the room
had actually met or experienced an Incarnate in the
flesh. They all wanted to know the same thing: What does the
witch know about the Incarnate that we don’t know?
“Why do you want her? This Incarnate? Why
would we do this for you?”
Bernadette’s jaw tightened and her eyes
narrowed further. Dissent, even merely questions, weren’t something
she tolerated from subordinates. And she certainly wouldn’t
tolerate it from a pack of dogs.
“You have heard of the Incarnate, have you
not?” Though Stephen’s expression didn’t change, she continued as
though he had answered her. “Then you know of her great power and
of what she means to our community. The Incarnate is a being unlike
any other that exists in our world. Born human, she is the link
between the profane and the divine. Incarnates rise as they are
needed in society. For a century, there has been no tell of one.
Yet, if you recall, the lore on them is rich through the stories of
countless faiths and countless epochs. An Incarnate can cause
floods to rise for forty years or heal a vast population from
plague.”
As Stephen considered her request to
intervene, the room filled with silence. Bernadette glared at the
Alpha, awaiting his response. It was a good contract and a
particularly profitable one as any contract for the matron witch of
the Northwest would be. The job, on the other hand, seemed risky.
They were accustomed to taking risks, but this was the
Incarnate.
There were at least two strong Alphas living
between Washington state and Oregon, yet the Seattle matriarch
reached out to them for this mission. Outside the area, there were
at least a dozen more who would have taken the job, no questions
asked. But Bernadette needed soldiers, and she needed expedited
services. Stephen boasted experience as a Special Forces commander
in the last two major wars. His was a pack comprised of former
military, other SpecOps, some-time mercenaries,
wolves.
“The Incarnate has been living in the foster
care of a convent for some time. This girl is, now, fourteen.
Within the next year, our sources tell us she will be moved to a
facility that houses at least a dozen other adolescent children
displaced by the system. At her current residence, there is minimal
security and optimal conditions for extraction. Of the next place
she is headed, the same cannot be said.”
Bernadette’s mouth drew into a thin, pressed
line. The creases around her eyes deepened as she narrowed her gaze
further on the Alpha.
As she directed her words to Stephen, the
witch’s voice projected to the back of the room where Cyrus, Neal,
and Angel stood. She didn’t waste a blink acknowledging their
presence, but they loomed nonetheless. Cyrus, over a foot taller
than his Alpha, wore a characteristically grim expression hidden
beneath a thick golden beard flecked with grey. Beside him was
Neal. Neal’s broad chest and equally large stature were yet another
dominant force. His chocolate skin was made darker by the glower he
cast on the witch. Though he was easily the coolest of the three
soldiers, his demeanor was no less threatening. The hottest head
among them was Angel who stood to Cyrus’ other side. Angel’s
expression did nothing to mask his frustration. His nostrils flared
and the scar that sliced through his eyebrow seemed to pulse in an
aggravated twitch.
“We have tried, in vain, to bring her into
our family. We have appealed to her caretakers to no avail. They do
not understand the urgency of the matter, nor do they wish to take
it upon themselves to intercede with her unfurling. With so little
time left to spare, we now turn to you, Stephen, and your… men . Will you help us?”
Between the wolves, a conversation was
silently taking place. Communicating through their telepathic link
as a pack, they debated the witch’s request. Everyone in the
preternatural community had heard stories about the Incarnate. But
that’s just it, they were all stories. No one in the room
had actually met or experienced an Incarnate in the
flesh. They all wanted to know the same thing: What does the
witch know about the Incarnate that we don’t know?
“Why do you want her? This Incarnate? Why
would we do this for you?”
Bernadette’s jaw tightened and her eyes
narrowed further. Dissent, even merely questions, weren’t something
she tolerated from subordinates. And she certainly wouldn’t
tolerate it from a pack of dogs.
“You have heard of the Incarnate, have you
not?” Though Stephen’s expression didn’t change, she continued as
though he had answered her. “Then you know of her great power and
of what she means to our community. The Incarnate is a being unlike
any other that exists in our world. Born human, she is the link
between the profane and the divine. Incarnates rise as they are
needed in society. For a century, there has been no tell of one.
Yet, if you recall, the lore on them is rich through the stories of
countless faiths and countless epochs. An Incarnate can cause
floods to rise for forty years or heal a vast population from
plague.”
As Stephen considered her request to
intervene, the room filled with silence. Bernadette glared at the
Alpha, awaiting his response. It was a good contract and a
particularly profitable one as any contract for the matron witch of
the Northwest would be. The job, on the other hand, seemed risky.
They were accustomed to taking risks, but this was the
Incarnate.
There were at least two strong Alphas living
between Washington state and Oregon, yet the Seattle matriarch
reached out to them for this mission. Outside the area, there were
at least a dozen more who would have taken the job, no questions
asked. But Bernadette needed soldiers, and she needed expedited
services. Stephen boasted experience as a Special Forces commander
in the last two major wars. His was a pack comprised of former
military, other SpecOps, some-time mercenaries,
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