Prologue It is in human nature to fear the dark, our ancestors feared the dark shrouded forests, mountains and

valleys not because of the danger they posed but because of the danger they might pose. So man burnt the forest, man destroyed the mountains and man cleared the valleys so that he could build his great cities there. He built his home from wood and stone and protected it whit iron and fire to keep the beasts at his door at bay, but man never considered the beasts within. In modern times we are lead to believe that daemons in human clothes, such as vampires, werewolves and much worse, are the stuff of myth, yet within each story there is a slice of truth hidden in it and in this world vampires and werewolves are very much alive. They live amongst us, they look like us, they act like us, for they were once us, but now mutated and changed they are a world apart. They call themselves simply the Society, yet this simple name gives them less credit than they deserve. They are like a parasitic organism living, breeding and dying in our cities. The society was originally made up of thousands of different species and sub-species but over time two emerged as the dominant ones which have haunted humanity since the dawn of time; the werewolf and the vampire. The wolf and the bat have waged their eternal war for millennia, both against each other and themselves, for no immortal truly shares power even whit his own kind. One would think that by now humanity would learn of this eternal struggle. Fortunately it is not to be so however, for the majority of the population remains blissfully ignorant of what happens in the dead of night. This masquerade is kept in check by a ruling body that calls itself the council. A group of the most powerful and oldest society members charged whit making sure that humans never learn the awful truth. To the society they are their heroes and leaders motivated by noble intent and honest action, in reality they are their jailors manipulating the many factions into an uneasy peace and making sure their own power is unmatched by any means possible. It is unknown if the council is the leading body of the entire society or even worse, part of a much larger entity. Whatever horror the society truly is, one thing is certain they are the only wall between us and total insanity for if the council didnt keep the society in check than all of humanity would be changed or devoured within a matter of decades.

Chapter 1: Blood of the innocent Lightning split the sky as the torrent of rain began to fall down, soaking the city and its inhabitants and adding to the already overpowering aroma of smells and scents. Why do I always get such lousy weather on my patrols; John wondered as the cool droplets of water began to run down his jacket. It wasnt that he hated these sorts of midnight patrols, but he did wish that the Alpha wouldnt have given him such a wide range to cover again. I should probably find cover in some bar or something like all the sane people, he thought to himself, not that there are exactly that many sane people living in NY to begin with. Josh was right in that, if a person was living in NY, than he was a gang member, a mobster, a drug dealer, a junky, a bum, a workaholic, or was just barely maintaining the grip on his sanity and that was just the human population. Of course he knew he was exaggerating, but he had spent so much time exposed to the worse of humanity that he was most likely starting to forget how a normal family or a normal human being, for that matter, lives. John wasnt really human; he hadnt been truly human for the last 25 years. Ever since the awakening his life had been one constant never-ending mix of drama and duty. Thats just what his new life had become; a series of regretful events drowned in work. The first and probably the worse blow since awakening was the loss of his family; old friends have been replaced in time by pack members and old lovers with new ones to a degree, but a family was an entirely different thing. The memories of his past life were fading slowly for the last couple of years, but this saddened him even more. He tried to focus on his patrol, but still the memories continued to cause him sorrow almost as much as the realization that all of the people he knew were slowly fading. Dam rain always brings out the whiney bitch in me, I really shouldnt be that hard on myself. In 25 years one would forget something as trivial as humanity when exposed to my world. Plus I really dont have that much to complain about, longer life, above human physical prowess and senses, not to mention the abilities I may get in time. John continued his patrol moving silently across rain soaked streets. He had picked a good disguise; an old leather jacket, a pair of jeans properly ripped to give him that street look, he wore a pair of army boots as they survived longer than most modern street wear, he even made sure that his face matched his outfit. John had neck long hair which he kept free of any restraints, he allowed himself some facial hair and opted not to wear any jewelry, better not to attract any gang members. All in all it was a simple disguise but an effective one, most gangs didnt bother people who were more trouble than they were worth and he made an effort to look at least a little bit intimidating while not sporting anything of value. Not that John would really have much of a problem with anyone threatening him, but he didnt like to carelessly get into fights if it wasnt needed. Plus this little dress up games where entertaining to him. Sure its a lot of work but at least it keeps me from going insane. All in all it was a cold and slow night for the Bronx as he made his way down the final stretch of Longfellow Ave Street. Only one more round and I am done for the night. He wasnt surprised that he heard so few police sirens this night, considering that most individuals where indoors due to the rain. This didnt mean that the rain prevented a drive-by shooting on Bryant Ave Street as his patrol took him there an hour or two ago, nor did it prevent the drug dealers from their normal business pursuits on Vyse Ave 1502. The criminal world was very much alive and John felt uneasy as he thought how much of a helping hand he had in it. He disliked criminals, he disliked aggressive individuals, he disliked gangs, drug dealers and what they brought but he liked living as well and he understood that most criminal groups from small time petty thieves to the big fish paid homage to the society and thus the council, the society he was part of and the council that owned him, for John was not a human. If one would be able to see the true social map of the city he would find himself staring at an incredibly complicated web of informants, alliances, information, factions and betrayal. Where the individual to look at this web he would see that it changes form on a daily basis as bonds are broken and reformed in different manner. Were he to look even more closely he would see that all lines connect at one location or one group, the council. John never met the councils members, nor had he any wish of meeting him, out of all the groups he heard of, the council was the one that filled him whit dread. Leaders from every part and every level of the city who had heard the stories ushered them in silent tones. John didnt know a lot about the council but he knew enough to understand that it had ears and eyes everywhere that often individuals have been removed at the slightest show of disrespect and for whatever nightmare the council truly is, it is also the only thing holding the society in check. Common focus John, there will be plenty of time to jump at stories and conspiracy theories latter, right now focus on the task at hand so you can get out of the dam rain. John thought to himself as he

turned the corner at the end Longfellow Ave and continued down the 174th Street. A sour but sweet smell forced its way into his nose and he remembered he was hungry. He could see that the Chinese Fired Chicken restaurant was still open. He was pretty sure the food wasnt as healthy as it smelled but he hadnt eaten tonight yet. It was not long before the smell was masked by other scents like car exhaust, spilled alcohol, garbage, fresh dog droppings, sewage Sewage? He knew that he would be able to smell it but it smelled stronger than normally, as if someone had opened a sewer hatch somewhere. There were no scheduled cleanup crews meant for today. John dropped his head in a manner of a tired man being battered by the constant rain. This of course was an act; he continued to sniff the air deeply and more closely. 300 no 400 meters away give or take. He picked up the pace and started moving towards the spot from which the smell was coming from, turned the corner at Bryant Ave and turned again into a side street. The smell was stronger here and it didnt take him long to find the cause for the stench, an opened manhole. This was odd although the sewer stench masked most of the persons scent John could still smell a faint odor of what came out of it. It had a metallic scent to it mixed in whit an oily scent and cleaning powders. Ok there is definitely something out of place here, the Night runners are the only pack allowed to be here. I better tell Martel before There was the scent again it went further down the alley, I really should report this first but if I end up saying that all I found was an opened manhole than Martel will just give me more work. John continued down the alley mowing as closely to the wall as possible. After a few minutes he stopped to sniff the air again, the scent was certainly still there but the rain was starting to wash the trail away. Whit a loud metallic slam as a trash can hit the ground a few steps further down. Although the alley was dark John could make out two individuals down the alley, one whit its back to him and the other on the floor. He stealthy moved closer watching the unfolding drama. The person whit its back to him was strongly built, whit some battered clothing, a hood over his head and the only evidence betraying he was black where his hands. The one on the floor he saw was a blonde female, in a rain coat, white and in tears. Judging from the black individuals body language and the red on the girls check this was most likely a petty robbery or a rape at worse. John began to back away but he stopped as he took a few steps backwards, its not your fight leave it be you fool, another step back, than he hesitated, Martel will have my ass for this but at least Ill sleep better. The man grabbed the girl by her hair and began to lift he all the while she was screaming and weeping; the man raised his hand to deliver a slap whit the backside of his hand but never got the chance. Before he could deliver the blow John wrapped his hands around his head and whit a mechanical precision twisted the mans head until he heard a satisfying snap. The body, now lifeless, collapsed onto the floor whit splash. The girl hesitated at first looking up at her savior and then let out a torrent of tears. John looked at her realizing that he should say something comforting. You really shouldnt be walking the streets alone like this. He said offering her a hand. Slowly the girl grabbed it. John said as he was began to lift her up Now where are you from, do you have anyone you could call or.There was that smell again. You idiot you where so overcome whit being a hero you neglected what led you here. His eyes met that of the girl and whit growing panic he spied the malice behind them. Whit a quick jab the girl thrust her hand towards his belly. John felt a sharp object penetrate his skin, shred his guts and exit at his back. At first he was to overcome whit surprise to really feel it but the pain quickly made itself known. He wanted to move away from the girl or to punch her but he felt numb, his muscles would not listen, whit a growing certainty he realized whit what he had been stabbed. Through gritted teeth he murmured a single word, Gla.ai..ve. The girl twisted the blade pulled it out and stabbed him again through the heart. The world went black as John collapsed first to his knees and then head first onto the cold floor. Leaning forward the girl whispered Thank you my dear wolf. to his ear. The street went quite, the only sound made by the falling rain and the distant steps of a womans heel. But soon even that disappeared and the world went silent and black and cold. Stan ran through the forest with haste, being slapped with branches and tripping over tree roots which have caused him to fall down several times along the way. It was dark and he was having trouble seeing. The light from the full moon and the bright stars glowing in the clear night sky above only provided little light for him to make his way through nature's maze. Stan was panting heavily and in great pain. His legs were burning like fire from running for so long and hes been cut and bloody all over from the branches and the slash marks from the beast's sharp claws. Stan came to rest at a fallen tree and leaned against it. He looks up at the moon and shivers. "Is this some sort of nightmare", he

thought to himself as he listens for any sign of the beast. His mind was in a constant rush of thought on what he had witnessed moments ago at the camp grounds. Stan and his girlfriend were sitting on a rock looking up at the very same moon that was now his only companion, with awe and wonder, holding each other as the night passed them by. Then the nightmare began. Like a lightning bolt out of a storm it struck them, knocking over Sarah and sending Stan flying to the ground eight feet away. As Stan looked up, eyes glazed from the impact, he heard his girlfriend scream for him to run as something big stood over her, snarling. As his eyes regained focus he saw it. Standing what must have been seven feet tall and covered from head to toe in black fur, was a bear. Only it wasn't a bear. Its snout was longer, and the creatures paws were oddly formed, they almost looked like hairy hands with long black nails at the end. The tail was also much too long and it slightly curved up as it continued to the point at the end. As he continued to watch the scene unfold the beast let out a vicious snarl that sent a wave of fear over Stan. Then it attacked Sarah. It bit her neck and squeezed. She made no sound as the beast's monstrous jaws crushed her neck with a mighty force so that no air could enter or escape. Stan saw the life leave Sarah's eyes. Those beautiful eyes he once looked into and were filled with so much love, were now becoming cold and empty. Stan also swore they turned yellow for a second. Then the beast snapped her neck cutting off Stan's focus and sent Sarah flying with a shake of its head as he released her from its huge jaws. It let out a victorious howl which chilled the air and sent shivers deep into Stan's core. He was up and running in seconds. Not knowing where he was going or what to do but some instinct said he had to keep moving. To get as far away from that creature as humanly possible. He fled, and cried over the loss of his beloved Sarah. So here he is, on the log, out of breath. Time has vanished from his mind and the only thing he can think of doing is to keep running. As Stan sat there trying to get his legs to move again he heard it. The howl when he saw Sarah dead, but it was different this time. This was a howl of hunger, of hate, of a desire to kill. Stan's legs found new life and he was running again. Not knowing where, just trying to get away. Then he saw it, the road. It lead to a town. The second Stan hit the road he was running downhill, far too exhausted to chance going up. Not caring or knowing if it was going the wrong way but he needed the decline in the hill to go faster and farther away from that thing. As he continued to run he heard huffing sound and regretfully looked back. Behind him was the creature, now running at him on all fours trying to catch up to him, and it was, very quickly too. Stan started to cry again and he screamed at the top of his lungs hoping that by some miracle a guardian angel would save him from this personal hell. But as he ran screaming on the road no one came to his rescue. The creature was almost upon him now. Stan herd the beast's breathing getting louder as it approached him. Then it pounced, knocking Stan to the pavement and onto his back. Stan was under the beast screaming for his life. Still clinging to the hope that someone would rescue him. But as he looked up at the creature into its big yellow eyes, he saw nothing but his own death reflecting in them. As Stan lay there his life didn't flash before his eyes. His thoughts were of Sarah and how much he wanted tell her how much he really loved her. In a few more weeks he was going to ask her to marry him. Hopefully have children who would in turn give him grandchildren and he could die happily. But anything was better than this. Then it happened, the creature growled low and bit Stan on the throat. At first there was horrible agonizing pain and a crack that for only a second Stan thought might of been his neck breaking. Then everything went light and numb for Stan as darkness consumed him. He lay dead in the middle of the road. The beast lifted up its head and let out a howl. Then dragged Stan's bloody corpse to the woods. "Will that be all Mr. Herman"? Said the clerk at the liquor store. "Yes, thank you", said Thor as he paid the clerk, picked up the thirty pack of beer, slung it over his shoulder and walked out. It was a cool sunny day in New York City, with mobs of people walking everywhere. Thor walked down the street to get to the parking garage where his truck was. He didn't trust to leave it at a meter parking spot and had the money to waste on such things. Everyone quickly cleared the way as he walked down the street. He was a very intimidating man. Thor was tall with wide shoulders, muscular frame, green eyes and a military style haircut. You would never catch him outside without military boots and black jeans on along with a t-shirt. He liked to keep things simple. Thor approached his truck and noticed someone leaning on it talking on his cell phone. The man is averaged sized, skinny with short cut brown hair and green eyes. He quickly realized it was his friend Mike. "Mike what the hell are you doing here, Martel is going to be pissed you're not at work". Thor yelled as he approached. Mike put

up his finger to indicate that he was busy so Thor quickly put his beer in the trunk and waited for his friend to finish up with his arms crossed. Mike snapped his cell phone shut, gave a sigh and said, "John was just found dead in an alley off of Bryant Street. Thor's eyes widened in surprise. "JOHN", he said to Mike in shock. Mike nodded to confirm. "Martel has been having the scouts look all over for him. He never showed up when his shift ended last night. The rain made it very difficult for the scouts to track. The police just found him. Apparently a woman called it in on a pay phone but we don't know who she is yet". Thor just stood there quietly for a moment, then he said, "First Sarah and her human pet go off on a little vacation and disappear, now you're telling me John is dead. What the hell's going on here"? Mike just shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine man, but Martel wants you back, now. All the warriors are to come home so we can come up with a plan, scouts are out looking for any clues on Johns killer". Thor just shook his head. "Gonna have one hell of a time finding anything with their squad captain dead". "Yea", Mike said. Thor moved passed Mike and got in his truck. "Well I better get back fast before my beer gets warm, you want a lift"? "Sure", Mike said as he walked around to the passenger side and got in. The two drove off in the truck back home. Martel sat at his desk, starring at the picture of Johns body one of the cops took. "Who would of done this"? he thought to himself. His eyes looked over at the other picture of a second body the cops found next to Johns. "Wasn't you, filthy human". Martel said quietly to himself. "John was much too powerful to be taken out by some common hood", Martel thought to himself as he tried to see some clear picture. He should know, he helped train John. Martel started to growl and his body shivered with rage. "First Sarah and now John!", he screamed. Martel lost control and flipped over his desk which did a three-sixty in the air and came down with a loud crash, cracking the wooden floor and breaking the oak wood desk. The door flung open a second later as Martel's two guards rushed in. The first one looked at the desk and then up at Martel and said, "Sir"? Martel took a few deep breaths and then said "Everything is fine Eric, go back to your post". Eric came to attention and said, "Yes sir, oh by the way sir the warriors are all assembled in the briefing room when you're ready, Thor and Mike just arrived". "Tell them I'll be down in a moment". Martel said as he dragged his desk back to where it belonged, not that it mattered now that he obviously needed a new one. The two guards saluted him and went back to their post outside the door. Eric radioed in to notify everyone the Alpha was on the way. The briefing room was full of activity as people paced back and forth and others ranted about their views and theories on the latest tragedy. Thor leaned on the wall in the back drinking a beer as Mike got into a heated discussion with two others as he tried to convince them John wasn't killed by the Swords of God, a religious group that deeply believe Other kin are all hell hounds sent by Satan and that it's their religious duty to kill us all. The door swung open next to Thor as Martel walked in. "Attention"! Thor yelled as everyone became instantly quiet and stood facing their leader. Martel nodded to Thor and walked straight up to the podium in the front. "Please be seated everyone", Martel said looking everyone in the eye to show he meant business today. When everyone was seated he said loud and clear, "As all of you know, John Winsington was found dead today. There are currently no leads from the police and our scouts haven't found out anything yet. Now with Sarah missing on top of this I am issuing a code orange". The whole room let out groan. "Enough!", Martel growled and everyone shut up. "We have one person dead and another probably in the same situation. I don't want any of you complaining about anything unless you're about to join them. Now all of you know what code orange means. We will all be working in units of three, that means when you leave this home, for any reason, two warriors must go with you. If others leave the home, three warriors must escort them until they return. Failure to do so will be very unpleasant for you, have I made myself clear"? "Yes Alpha", everyone said in unison. Martel nodded and said, "Good, now then we must also make sure everyone else from the pack is protected". He looked Thor straight in the eye. "Captain Thor I want guards placed around the home and squads of three patrolling our territory until I say otherwise". Thor gave a nod and said, "Yes Alpha". Martel looked at his watch and said, "That's all for now, I shall leave Captain Thor to take care of the rest, I have to go order a new desk for my office. Martel left the podium and walked up to Thor. "No one else must be harmed", he said to Thor, "No one", and walked out of the room. Thor stood up and went to the podium. "You can all breath again", Thor said and everyone quickly relaxed. ...

No no Charlie its ok, Xeno said he can remove their files in as little as two days if it came to it Yeah I know the site contains slightly damaging information but it gets so few hitsWell look I am not responsible for internet related leaks thats Xeno and his divisions jobWell why the heck dont you call them than!. Peter slammed the phone down. Dam idiot. He thought to himself as he did that. It has been the same story day in and day out, the society always seemed to come to up whit new requests, complaints or demands for him to handle. The bulk of his work was actually performed out in the field but a large portion of it demanded him sitting patiently for a few hours each day in front of a PC or on the phone. Who would have thought that immortality could be so similar to an office job at times? he said out loud. Ohh wait you did, they told you before you exchanged blood. To the naked eye Peter wasnt anything out of the ordinary, average built, his brown hair cut short, his skin slightly darker, strong eyebrows and everyday clothes. Even his apartment was very human to the look, a small humble kitchen, a bathroom and a single bedroom whit a desk and a humble bed, although where the bed currently lay was anyones guess for Peter had so many papers scattered around the place that the bed was out of sight. The only thing pointing to the fact that he might be something more than human was a triangular shaped tattoo on his shoulder. Peter was originally meant to be a werewolf, but since his pack had fallen out of the good grace of the Council it ended up being disbanded and exiled, he as a younger member was allowed to stay but he had to swear loyalty and services to the Council. However no amount of oaths of loyalty and service would ease the Councils mistrust and so they branded him whit their own sign which blocked his still dormant abilities. Peter rubbed his shoulder as he recalled the night in which he fell to his knees begging to be spared. He couldnt recall the actual branding, the ritual was painful and he passed out during it. To many in the Society this would seem as an act of mercy if not a blessing. Peter never had to shift, he never could have shifted since receiving his mark, and he was able to go about as any human would. A blessing what do they know of this blessing anyway? The truth of the matter was however that the mark came whit a curse in its own just as predatory and destructive as the vampire or werewolf curse. The mark kept him from shifting, that much was true, however as a side effect it gave him very strong pains when he wanted to shift and gave him nightmares which allowed him very little sleep at all, this in turn left him almost addicted to painkillers and sleeping pills for although he had some minor powers he didnt benefit from them to the extent other Society members do. His senses where only slightly above average, his physical strength was also childish when compared to fully fledged werewolves and he had virtually no axis to the spiritual realm which in turn kept him from putting his mind at ease whit meditation as other Society members were able to do. His only true strength was dependant on how well he chose his words, for as much as a burden as the mark was it was also the only sign that he was an agent of the Council and thus had a measure of the Councils authority. Its almost as if being castrated to an extent. He was far from the only agent kept by the Council but he was one of the few who were given this mark. Peter was never really a threat he was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, he wasnt even part of his pack for a month before it was dismantled. He has lived his entire life after that as a servant, or rather a lap dog, to the Council. He primarily acts as a representative or a negotiator, looking over and keeping notes on the Societies activates and than sending them to the Councils headquarters. He actual never saw any of the Councils members after he was marked nor did he have any wish to meet them anytime soon. Peters day dreaming was ended abruptly as his phone vibrated indicating a received message. He picked it up and went over the message. It simply read; come here, whit a link to an internet site attached to it. He instantly knew it was high priority simply due to the fact that most Society members didnt worry too much whit their telephone talks as the Council did hold control over the majority of New Yorks police wing, even so they did avoid using to many unfamiliar terms and often switched between the numbers being used. However the person sending him this internet information wasnt an everyday caller, this was further proven to him when the link provided led him to a document containing a letter. Very high priority indeed. The letter was written in gibberish not making a bit of sense to most readers, but the letter was coded. Peter picked up a pen and a piece of paper and started deciphering it. Whit each letter being added and each word being formed he felt a growing numbness. When he finished he dropped the pen and leaned back on his seat his eyes widened whit surprise and fear. Speak of the devil. was all he uttered before getting up and almost running out of his apartment.

As he shut the door the piece of paper was swept up by a gust of wind and feel onto the floor, it contained a single sentence; the council calls. The suns early morning rays where slowly creeping over the horizon bathing the tall skyscrapers in a golden light. The tallest buildings threw long shadows as dawn broke and the citys street lights were turned off as there was no need for them anymore. It would be a nice clear day. From this point the city looks beautiful; thought Eloise as she took in the full majesty of the city from her vantage point. I think we should call it a night El, dawn is breaking and we havent seen or heard anything the entire day. Said Jeff, one of her fellow pack members. The alpha told us the Night runners boy was operating somewhere in this area and that he was on his own, we might never get a chance like this again Jeff. I know El, but look dawn is breaking, all the other look outs have already returned home empty handed and besides I start my day shift in a few hours. Jeff made a pleading whine whit the last few words that almost made Eloise break a smile. She sat down her binoculars and turned to face him replying. If dawn is breaking that means we still have a little under an hour during which time the Night runners maintain their patrols. If the other look outs returned home empty handed than we have that much more of a chance to return home whit the actual prize. Besides those puppy eyes you make dont work on me She said whit a grin. Ohh youre such a bad liar sometimes, you know that nobody can resist this face. But seriously why is it so important whether we catch a member of the Night runners or not? I mean there no better than crooks and I wouldnt mind bashing one of their faces in, but still they dont seem worth me freezing my ass up here. He is right it almost doesnt seem worth it. Eloise and Jeff were both part of the same pack. The Lunar wolves as they were known controlled a very small pocket of NY, they were also few in number and couldnt hope to match the resources of the other longer established factions. The only way such a group was to survive was to enter service of a more powerful organization. The Night runners accepted them at first whit open arms and gave them a small piece of territory to govern but it came whit a price. The Lunar wolves had been set up right along the border whit one of the Night runners rival groups. This made them no better than cannon fodder, fighting against a group which was larger and better organized than they could ever hope to be. It was true that the Night runners did aid them at times, but such aid was infrequent and often came too late to save lives. It was a heavy thing for the Lunar Wolves to consider that after their arrival to NY ten years ago their numbers where almost cut in half. As if that wasnt bad enough the Night runners also demanded a monthly tribute from the Lunar Wolves bleeding there already limited resources even further. But we do need to bare our fangs and make our plight known. You do realize Jeff that one of the Night runners senior leaders can be patrolling this streets right now? Alone and unaware. So? Jeff asked whit a bored expression. What do you mean so? A high level hostage like that can finally make our overlords see that we dont plan to die for them indefinitely. We can even make a demand in payment for him so that we dont have to work constant double shifts or at the very least they will cancel their demands for tribute. You know at times I wonder how you even managed to live this long. Jeff was 2 years her senior in the pack yet and is one of her closest friends but at times she couldnt help but angry at his childish behavior. Why thats easy El the people who wanted me dead took one look at this gorgeous face and found their hearts lacking. Plus I do pay attention to my surroundings a fact you might have overlooked. The only high ranked member of the Night runners that goes on patrols on his own is John and like it or not he is much more powerful than a hot headed she wolf, a good looking fellow like myself and the single revolver carried by you and me. He is right. Eloise sighed picked up her binoculars and kneeling placed them into the back pack. As she was closing the back pack she said. You know it sucks when your right, but when your right your right. I am just frustrated we spent the entire night and have nothing to show for it. She stood up and threw the backpack onto her back.

Well not completely wasted. We did spend an entire night up here alone. You can say what a romantic evening we had. I bet it would make all the other females from the pack jealous. He said whit a grin. She playfully punched him in the shoulder saying. Thanks but no thanks. Besides I dont see how spending a cold and wet night on five different rooftops listening to your snoring half of the time would be seen as romantic. Your loss. Replied Jeff as he reached the fire escape. I think Ill live. She replied laughing. Jeff was an ass, half in love whit his own appearance but he did know how to make you laugh at times. They reached the bottom of the fire escape and started to make their way down the alley. The rain ended as morning began to draw first light. The air was cold but cleaner than usual thanks to it. The silent walk was broken half way down the alley as Jeffs self phone vibrated. He stopped to answer and Eloise waited for him to finish. I see. Jeff said as he ended the call his expression more serious than usual. Eloise looked at him and asked. Well? That was the alpha we are to report back to the house as soon as we are able. He found our men. He? The Ravenlord.

Chapter: The sunken sanctuary The wind blew in hard from the open sea as the small fairy slowly made its way towards its destination. He leaned on the railing watching the sun rise and the waters swirl as the boat cut through the waves. In stark contrast to the dark and cold night the morning rays where bright and warm. Peter welcomed them. He left his apartment two hours ago and spent one of them waiting for the tourist fairy to dock. But luckily the boat was making good progress and Liberty Island was drawing closer from minute to minute. Lady Liberty herself growing larger and larger is filling the horizon. The previous night had done the statue good as the rain washed away dust and other filth from its surface. A blowing horn cut his observation short as the fairy neared its chosen port. He quickly reached a hand into the pocket of his jacket to make sure the item he was carrying was still there. It would be really bad if I forgot it. He thought as the boat docked. Especially considering I am somewhat late as it was. This wasnt the first time he paid a visit to Liberty Island; this was after all the Councils symbolic seat of power. It was realized in the citys founding days that most of the mainland would be heavily contested by all comers. To successfully present itself as a ruling body the Council needed piece of neutral territory that was hard to contest by any faction within the actual city. He came here every few months at pre-determined hours to report to various representatives acting in the councils stead who demanded his presence. It would be different this time however for they are here. Breaking away from the tour group he made his way to an uninteresting door which opened up to a flight of stairs. He made his way down the flights of stairs and at the bottom opened another door which in turn lead him to a maintenance hallway, flanked on each side by pipes and cabals. The hallway would be ordinary to any outsider. However the further you went, the wider it got and the pipes and cabals soon broke off into various side hallways or disappeared into the wall, floor or ceiling. He stooped, now standing in front of strangely well maintained elevator door. Here we go. He thought pressing the button and listening to the grinding mechanisms bringing it up from deep bellow until it arrived. The doors slid open whit a silent hiss and Peter entered it. Into the belly of the beast. As the doors closed behind him he reached the panel opposite to the one containing the controls for the elevator and pressed his hand down hard. The panel reacted to the touch and slid sideways on hidden mechanisms. It revealed a lock on one side and a small needle pointing from the surface on the other. Reaching into his pocket Peter took out a small key and entered it into the keyhole turning it twice to the right and once to the left. Leaving the key in the lock he pressed his thumb onto the needle until it drew blood. I wonder if they ever considered how time consuming and unhealthy such a security system was to us. Ohh well its not like we can complain to the union about it hehe. Waiting for a few seconds, as the machine read the entered data, he wondered how many people came by here, and the dozens of other similar elevators, this day. Whit a jerk the elevator began a quick descent into down. It took only a few minutes to cover several hundreds of meters of rock and earth before coming to a stop. As the doors slid open once more he entered a large domed room. Peter entered it making a straight walk towards the guards post station on the other end of the room. His footsteps echoed loudly off the black marble as his form caught a reflection on the metallic like surface of the rooms domed structure. Besides the guard post at the end of it, the room was empty devoid of any furniture, people, or indeed any kind of imperfection that may clash whit its basic form. There where around nine more exact copies of this dome built under Liberty Island. They where meant as the sanctuaries security points. The hollow surface a person had to cross in order to reach the opposite side of the elevator where the actual entrance to the sanctuary lay was protected by a guard post. The open space was in a sense a killing ground for any would be invader or spy as there was virtually no cover shielding you should the guards on the other side decide to start shooting. As he reached the guard post he took of his jacket and placed it on the floor, raised his arms and awaited inspection. One guard picked up his jacked one approached him and checked for any would be weapons he may have been carrying while the other three kept their guns pointed at him. They are a mixed group he realized. The one inspecting his jacket was a werewolf, which was easy to guess considering he was sniffing it. The person searching him was human while he was certain that the paled complexions of the group aiming there weapons at him clearly marked them as vampires. It was a well organized team, the werewolfs senses would of helped the individual inspecting his jacket to

pick up even the slightest particale which was out of the ordinary. The trio of vampires kept their distance, a good thing to as there above human reflexes would quickly fill him whit lead, but he guessed that the bullets were probably treated to be even more lethal. As for the human, well if he did turn out to be a threat he would most likely have to kill the human first or trying to escape take him as a hostage, which wouldnt have stopped the shooters from killing both him and the hostage as human servants where easy to replace. The guard inspecting him took a step back and nodded to the firing squad which in turn lowered their weapons. The werewolf returned his jacket and pointed his arm towards the door, behind the guard post, indicating that he should move on. No questions were asked and no words were spoken as Peter moved on. He now stood in a long hallway once more; however unlike the initial one this one was better maintained and made from ceiling to floor entirely out of the same dark marble as the floor in the dome. It was flanked however by metallic doors and lines of white stone worked into the marble sides of the hallway. This place was also more alive in a sense as there where figures walking up and down its length as well as exiting and entering the many rooms which lay beyond the doors that flanked the hallway. The further he went down the hallways the more figures there where; werewolves and other shape shifters, vampires and humans in every shape, form and nationality one could imagine. As he reached the end of the hallway it ended in a large open space, richly decorated whit several floors and a single round column of black marble holding up its ceiling. The space was densely crowded as officials, politicians and other leaders of the society mingled. Every time he reached the Great hall he couldnt help but feel humbled by the power and secrecy of the Society. It was when humans first settled in the bay of New York that already the first covert drillings took place. It took incredibly detailed planning to not only build such a work but also carry it out in secrecy. In time humanity built its own symbol to greatness on top of it but this only served to raise the spiritual and symbolic meaning of the Councils own sanctuary. As time went by each new Council member made it his duty to expand and glorify the Councils seat of power until it became the majesty it was today, a majesty made even more majestic by the fact that it was so well hidden. As Peter moved on he couldnt help but notice the decorations of the Great hall. Furs, pictures, statues, fountains, decorated desks, mosaics; it seemed like some great entity scoped up the collective art forms of humanity and filled the Great hall whit them. Unfortunately there was too much art for one person to see in a single day so Peter made for as straight a line as possible towards the large black column at the center of the Great hall. There he was stopped by a further group of guards, unlike the ones he meet earlier these where all either werewolves or vampires, all in their true forms and all pureblooded. At first glance one could not tell the difference between a pureblooded vampire and werewolf but the more one looked the more one could see they were different. For starters purebloods were much more arrogant than even normal Society member, which was saying a lot. They were quick to take offence and quick to anger. The more obvious trait was that they could never stand there human disguises and so wore them only when truly needed. As a result the vampire half of the guards was as pale as white marble while the werewolf half stood represented in their true forms. Sadly the Council didnt appreciate nudity to much so even the werewolf half was dressed suitably, usually in animal furs which made them appear even larger. Most both vampire and werewolf however wore amour, shoulder guards and breastplates where worn by almost everyone but some even went so far as to have helmets. This went in stark contrast whit the modern weapons carried by the vampire half but went along perfectly by the more brutal melee weapons carried by the werewolf half. Peter wasnt stupid enough to doubt either the amour worn or the melee weapons carried in their efficiently however. Most vampire and werewolf clans were obsessed whit more traditional weapons, however that didnt stop them from modifying something as simple as chainmail or a sword until it was as deadly as any automatic rifle. The guards looked down upon him whit eyes that betrayed what they thought of him. Slave, lowborn, mixed blood. For a moment Peter felt ashamed of his worn leather jacket his normal jeans and his black shirt. He bowed his head and kept his gaze fixed to the floor while saying: Exalted sons and daughters of Russ and Elizabeth, favored of the Council and exalted above all mix bloods. This lowly servant of the Council humbly asks for entrance. A werewolf guard approached him growling yet still managing to utter words: Grrshow thy markgrrr wormgrr and state thy business orgrr I will make you bleed.

Peter quickly removed his jacket and pulled up the right sleeves of his shirt exposing the triangular mark saying. Honored son of Russ the Council, blessed be there name, have deemed worthy that I, a lowly servant, approach them. The werewolf guard bared his sword and pressed the tip on the mark drawing blood. Peter could feel the cold blade press on his shoulder. You idiot you said it wrong. Luckily a vampire guard approached him as well and said. You are wrong, you are not worthy, but you are unfortunately required and the Council has in their wisdom allowed you entry. Now raise and enter, we do not want a low born such as you bleeding on such a holy site. The werewolf guard pulled the tip away and then wiped the side of his sword in Peters shirt before moving a step back. Peter stood up and still keeping his gaze fixed to the floor moved towards the door. He entered the small another elevator on the other side of the door. As the doors closed he let out a sigh of relive. That was close. The purebloods were always brutish in there charge and owned allegiance only to the Council and their own extended families.