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Chapter 37 - Bloodlust

The world around Ember seems to slow down as he succumbs to the bloodlust. Tasting fresh human blood again since that night sends him into a full relapse. The memory of the hunter he killed, not so different to the one not 4 feet away. The cowardly grin on his face quickly twists to horror as he realises the gravity of his mistake. Hoping to not get caught in the crossfire, the two women back away, but they are not Ember’s target. With his hands raised to chest-height, splayed and clawed, his lips curled into a chilling snarl, and eyes burning into the target like a homing beacon, he lunges.

Lewis takes a step back, only to press himself into the body of another wolf, but before he has time to push him aside and flee, he is brought to the ground. The sheer mass pins him where he lay, unable to free his arms. Ember can feel another of his kind attempting to pry him away, he doesn’t care whom, it won’t work. The man releases a tremendous cry for help as he twists his head away from the gaping maw. Alas, his writhing only serves to exposes his neck. Wasting no time, the wolf brings his head down, wraps his jaws onto the soft flesh and snaps them together with a fatal crushing force.

Blood spills from the punctures made by his teeth, exciting him further. The faint gurgles of Lewis’s last breath foams around his lips as his throat is torn asunder. The tumult of screams that follow fall dull against Ember’s ears, numb to any influence as he savages this waste of human life. He raises his bloodied head in preparation of a second attack when a loud crack pierces his ears. His head pounds, his stomach churns; and in the second that passes, the red turns to black and the cold, hard floor crashes to his side.

-

His eyes flicker open and he finds himself still laying on the patio. A small crowd gathered around him with Cal, Hess and Voigt being among them. Fingers are gently combed through the fur at the side of his head, and as he looks up at the white wolf hunched over him, he’s met with a concerning smile.

“Are you alright, dear?”

His angelic voice attempts to calm the storm in Ember’s mind as he recalls the fresh memories. He shuts his eyes as they begin to burn and curls himself up into a pitiful ball. A grimace of lament afflicts his face and a dolorous cry pours from his lungs in fear of what will become of him and his friends.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs between broken breaths, “I’ve ruined everything.”

“Don’t worry,” Cal says in a soothing tone, “we’ll clean it up.”

The black wolf cowers at the hand on his head, feeling so unworthy of any affection. He still tastes the blood on his tongue and retches dryly. The very idea of what he’s done to the other wolves and to the master sickens him. He opens his eyes slowly, hoping to see some forgiveness in the faces that look down on him. Human and wolf alike all seem to show some flavour of concern, making him feel so undeserving of their compassion.

He forces himself to observe the damage, dragging his eyes down, between the legs that surround him, searching for the remains of that hateful man. He looks around further, tilting his head up and behind to his rear and finds nothing. No blood, no gore nor mangled corpse … only a significant pile of vomit near his feet.

Ember’s head snaps back forward to face Cal who is still crouched and smiling. Surreptitiously he lifts his hand up and wipes his lips with a thumb: the subtle code they predetermined, used now to indicate a secret held between them. Ember’s body trembles as liberating assurance ripples into his throat and judders a shallow exhale. He weeps, exultant; overcome by the relief that nothing really happened. He didn’t murder the Hunter. The paradise that found him remains intact. His friends are safe.

“Voigt threw Lewis out,” Hess says with wicked glee. “Literally threw.”

“Oh get up you bloody pansy,” comes a familiar voice. “The very idea of a werewolf fainting at the taste of blood is just absurd.”

Ember looks up at the Colonel, still drinking as he peers haughtily down at the felled wolf. He does feel awful silly now he knows what happened and can’t help but laugh at himself. He sits up and wipes his eyes, letting those showing worry that he’s alright and just needs some space. The Master is sat on the chair he’d not long since occupied, cooly observing and raises a glass. Ember can’t help but wag his tail when he sees that his master is not upset or cross.

The wolf is brought to his feet by Cal and another man who seems very keen to help; Ember recognises him from the kitchen window as Emil. The human insists that he be seated and carefully plants him on the chair next to Alek.

“Are you alright, my boy?” He asks with a voice so deep it could guide ships home from sea. The black wolf’s fur tingles at the sound and he spots Cal and Hess sharing a glance and a smirk in his peripheral vision.

“Um … y-yes, thank you, my lord.”

“Emil,” he corrects and leans in to put a hand on Ember’s knee. “Please call me Emil.”

The wolf gulps and flushes, staring at the man who desperately seems to care about him. With the green eyes appearing so kindly, and the disarming smile and grip on his knee, he has to fight his body from fidgeting. The sun casts Emil’s body in a radiant silhouette; vaporising his shirt to the shadows of an x-ray. Ember wets his mouth and gulps again, realising his eyes have travelled a dangerous path and pulls them back up lest they get caught in the diaphanous net. Emil seems to have neither noticed nor cared about this voyeuristic detour and continues again when their eyes lock.

“I think it’s utterly despicable what he did to you. Wolves are treated so unfairly these days, don’t you agree?” He bends his knees to get to eye level, never loosening his grip.

“Yes,” Ember nods.

“I’m not exactly surprised,” Walter pipes up, “Even I have being targeted for doing my job. They hate the idea of a werewolf having immunity from their own laws.”

“Come now, Walter. Don’t exaggerate” Alexander says. “They didn’t know the chef would use peanut oil.”

“No, but they made no effort to prevent it! They should have warned the kitchen staff and assured me they had.” Walter fumes. “Had I not had my epi, I would have died and you know that full well.”

“It could still have been an oversight, and not intentional,” Alexander reasons, putting his hand in a pocket.

“Well we can at least agree that this was no accident.” Mr Grave turns back to the wolf.

“Certainly not; I’m simply appalled by it,” Emily says.

“I agree,” concurs Lady Horditch. “I know they’re a passionate bunch, those Hunters, but to attempt retaliation by provoking a wild animal, in the middle of a party, with all of us here, is just ghastly.”

“Quite right, m’lady.” The Colonel lifts his glass in agreement. “I couldn’t have imagined a more idiotic and shortsighted approach. Had Ember turned violent, I shouldn’t think half of us would be left to tell the tale.”

“That’s not why I’m appalled!” Mrs Diggle retaliates, the firm hand of her husband, having now recovered his digestive issue, keeping her at his side. “Think of the damage that this could have, and very well might have done to Ember’s wellbeing!”

The wolf drifts his head woozily from person to person as they each reason that this reckless act put them in danger but argue over who was most at risk. When Lord Horditch begins his spiel of how it proves ‘this wolf’ was not ready to mingle with the upper class, Alek silences them all.

“That’s enough!” Once all eyes are on him he continues, “I would like you all to return indoors now and allow Ember his convalescence.”

He stares at them individually and they all eventually agree and retreat inside. Ember can tell the conversations had only been postponed, but now they’re muffled he doesn’t care to listen. Emil attracts his attention with a gentle squeeze to his knee, having not moved from his side during the debate.

“I’m thankful you’re safe,” he says with a pleasant smile. Ember feels his cheeks burn slightly and can’t help but smile back, if only weakly. Emil stands and gently pets the wolf’s head, then excuses himself with a bow. “I will leave you to recover.”

“Do you want to go up to your room?” Cal asks, being the last left outside with the master.

“I’m fine here. I don’t feel like moving anyway,” Ember replies with a wobbly head shake.

“Alright, we’ll leave you alone for a while. But let me know if you need anything, dear.”

“Fetch him some water,” Alek suggests, to which the butler nods.

Cal makes his way back to the patio door where Hess is waiting; watching from a cautious distance. They both look back at him and disappear inside.

“I’m proud of you,” Alek says quietly once the crowd has dispersed.

Ember turns to him and flattens his ears in reverence. “Why?”

“Because you performed exactly as I needed you to.”

Ember lowers his head back down, his eyes narrowly avoiding the bile awaiting a mop. “Thank you, master,” he mutters weakly.

“I need to be present among them and maybe try and sort this mess out. So just take your time here, no one should bother you. It’s alright now”. He strokes his hand over the wolf’s brow to the back of his neck and retreats to continue his firefighting.

With Ember now sat alone on the patio with a glass of water to wash away the taste, he lets the world move on without him for a while. People seem to blur in and out of view a couple of times, but he isn’t sure if any of them are talking to him or each other. At some point his sick is cleaned up but he doesn’t notice when. All he can think of is how glad he is that he didn’t kill that Hunter, and how unfortunate that truly is. Every time the image of his destroyed body comes into the forefront of his mind, he feels a bubble of nausea grow in his stomach; knowing that had that actually happened, he would be dead, and the home he’d been so readily accepted into might have died along with him.

His dissociation starts to wane as the guests come to say their goodbyes, Prava and Emily giving him a hug each. Emil pets his head softly and gives him a solid handshake. Walter also says a forgivably unceremonious farewell, seemingly also grateful nothing terrible actually happened. The rest don’t grace him with their presence again.

Soon enough, the guests are all gone, and all that’s left is the mess left behind and the hired staff to help clean it up. Ember looks out over the garden, glad of the quiet and still basking in the relief that overall, the banquet was a success. So he sits, listening to the sounds of plates clattering and brooms sweeping, replaying the memory in his head, as clear as it was, of the murder of Lewis Broadbent.

—

“Ember?” He hears to his side and jumps when he sees Cal staring at him. “I asked you how you’re feeling.”

“Oh … sorry, I’m ok, I think” the black wolf looks down at his empty glass. “What time is it?” He asks, not remembering finishing his drink.

“5:30, the guests left early. I think they started feeling a bit awkward over what happened. Bad air I guess.”

“I hope it wasn’t me” he asks, shifting his gaze to Cal who shakes his head.

“Actually the concern some of them showed for you was quite touching.”

Ember looks back down and shakes his head “I just … don’t know what happened.”

“From what I was told by Prava, Lewis splashed the blood on you, clearly intending to trigger a bloodlust, you got dizzy, collapsed to your knees, threw up and passed out.”

“Wow … err, yeah … that’s not how it went in my head.” Ember says, sheepishly, and looking around to make sure no one’s listening. “I felt the bloodlust, and I killed him. Shredded his neck with my bare teeth.” He gips a little at the thought of all that blood.

“I figured that might have been what happened.”

“What’s going on with me? How did you know?”

Cal smiles and taps the leather strap around his neck. “I noticed earlier that your collar has another symbol on that the rest of us don’t have. I think the master put something on yours in case something happened.”

“Really?” Ember looks down, in a futile attempt to look at his collar.

“He wants to see you, so, he’ll likely explain everything upstairs.” Cal puts a hand on the side of his face and wipes away some of the dried blood. “You did really well today, Ember. If it weren’t for Lewis, you would have got a perfect score.” He smiles and kisses the side of the black-furred muzzle.

“Thanks. I still feel very embarrassed it happened, but I’m glad I didn’t actually kill him.” He stands up. “Despite how much I wanted to,” he adds, making the white wolf chuckle.

“You and me both.”

Ember steps into the dining room and sees several members of staff cleaning up the table and wiping down the floors. They all seem to avoid eye contact with him as he walks through, but none try to move away, they just seem focussed on their duties. Entering the main hallway, Voigt is saying his goodbyes to the security detail. He quickly hails the wolf before he turns up the stairs.

“Hey,” he says casually, stepping over. “I wanted to congratulate you. You were polite to all the guests, even when they were being rude to you and I know that would have been hard on you.”

“Oh, well it’s nothing really, I guess. I just did my best.” Ember smiles weakly.

“You know it’s hard for me to admit this kind of stuff, but you put in a lot of effort in for us, so, thank you. We’ve all found a home here and I dread to think how much worse off we’d all be if something went seriously wrong.”

“Yeah …” Ember dips his chin.

“Master is furious. I mean, I am too, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that angry. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an investigation done to find more Hunters in breach of contract. The Venators, cruel as they may be, are sticklers for rules.” The grey wolf pats the other’s arm.

“I’m just glad no one got hurt.”

“Me too.” Voigt nods and brightens up instantly “Hey, do you still want to come on a hunt with me later?”

“I think I’d like that, yeah. As long as this collar doesn’t make me throw up again.” He laughs. The older wolf tilts his head a little and then nods, realising there was some magical influence involved from earlier.

“Well you’ll be back into your old collar by then anyway. And,” he looks around to make sure no one can overhear and leans in a little closer, “I still have a load to give you. Perhaps we could kill two birds with one stone.” He smirks.

“What are you suggesting?” Ember squeaks with a nervous smile.

“Nothing, nothing,” Voigt mutters suggestively winking. “I won’t keep you if you’ve been summoned. Go on.” He gently smacks the black wolf’s butt and watches as he scurries up the stairs.

Ember knows he’d have a half-chub from that interaction if not for the chastity spell. The smile quickly diminishes from his face when he reaches the landing and hears a heated, one-sided argument coming from the study door. He creeps up to it, listening to what’s being said.

“I’m giving you a chance to admit fault. Because if my investigation uncovers more of this shit, I’m going to fight to shut you down for good.” - “I don’t give a toss what you think. This was premeditated, intended to provoke an attack.” - “Don’t you dare bring him into this. I held myself accountable for Kyle, and I’ve heard nothing but defence for what Lewis did.” - “I will not accept being mocked in my own home. He broke the rules. Cut him or I will escalate the matter.” - “Then I have nothing more to say.”

Ember hears the slam of the receiver and gingerly knocks on the door when it goes silent.