FSE

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After making some new unexpected "friends" the pack settles into a routine, with David getting a whole new routine he didn't expect.

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The television turned off with a loud pop, a thin trail of acrid smoke seeped out from behind it making Colin groan in dismay.

“Now I have to get another one.”

“It should still be under warranty,” said Lucas. “And if you have the receipt you should be able to just have it replaced. It’ll just look like it broke itself, they wouldn’t be able to tell it was broken by a spirit.”

“Worry about that later. Everyone gear up,” ordered Morrison, sounding like a military officer.

Tsu’mara immediately snapped to military attention from the elder’s tone and then marched to the library to get the guns out of the safe.

Jesse followed after her and soon after there was an excited, girly squeal.

“Ohhh, there’s an M1 Garand,” said Jesse.

“No!” snapped Morrison and darted into the library where snatched the rifle out of Jesse’s hands. “This is my old service rifle from the war. None of you are touching that. Take this one instead.”

He handed Jesse a small, snub nosed revolver. Jesse held it by the grip with a finger and a thumb and asked Morrison with a tone dripping with disgust, “A Smith & Wesson LadySmith? Really?”

Tsu’mara shouldered an M16 and tried to hand David a handgun but David quickly backed off, held his hands up and stammered, “I’m not allowed to have guns.”

Morrison looked around the library and didn’t see what he was looking for. He looked out of the library and saw Colin collecting the plates from the dining table.

“What are you doing?” snapped Morrison, making Colin pause his chore and look at the elder confused. “I said everyone. Now get your hide.”

It took a moment for the order to register before Colin dropped the plates back onto the table and darted into the bedroom. Groans, and cracks of bones came from it before an excited red wolf came bounding out into the living room.

Colin skidded to a stop in front of Morrison. He excitedly tapped his paws on the floor, impatient to leave.

“Let’s move out,” ordered Morrison.

Colin was already gone, the swinging dog door the only evidence of his departure.

***

Annabel leaned against the rusted metal fence that surrounded a random grave as she kept watch for her husband Poe and their cabal member Alice as they dug up the grave of the man they’re looking for.

She combed a long lock of blonde hair that blew into her face as she looked out into her surroundings. It was too dark to see anything out in the desert but Pioche’s way let her at least see if anyone approached.

They’d been digging for about half an hour and so far nothing has happened. Annabel thanked her lucky stars for that, excitement meant plans going awry and not likely not getting the results she wanted.

She started when she thought she saw something move in the darkness. She focused on where she saw the movement and saw a large coyote trot out of the darkness into the light.

“Shoo! Shoo!” she said to the coyote when it got too close to her for comfort. The coyotes in this town are larger, and more comfortable around humans than she would’ve liked.

“Anything amiss, Annabel?” called out Poe as he speared the shovel into the ground and heaved another clod of sandy dirt into the pile.

“No,” answered Annabel. “Just a coyo-”

Another movement in the dark. She almost missed it. It blended so well into the dark. She looked at where she saw the movement, thinking it may have been another coyote. Hoping that it was. Praying.

It wasn’t.

As her eyes grew used to the dark, a dark shape became visible. A black void in the dark. Her eyes drew upwards as she realised the true size of it. It was far larger than a coyote. As tall as she was, and as large as a bull. It was impossible to make out details in the dark. She could only make out its general outline and two piercing golden eyes.

Her stomach dropped and her heart raced as she made eye contact with the beast. She had to warn Poe and Alice, but she couldn’t get a sound out through the massive lump that formed in her throat.

The beast stalked out into the dim light, its fur was so dark it seemed to drag the darkness it stepped out of along with it. It had a hunched back. Its forelegs were longer than its rear legs and made its hunched appearance all the worse. Its forepaws were a disturbing blend of paw and human hand. Its head was akin to a wolf, but its muzzle was shorter and boxier. Its lips were completely pulled back and revealed dagger like teeth in a furious and savage snarl. Its growl was so deep that she felt its rumble in her gut, and it chilled her blood.

She shrieked in pure, primal terror.

“ANNABEL!” yelled Poe and dropped his shovel after hearing his wife’s terrified scream.

He turned to run to her aid, but his own blood chilled when he faced down the barrel of a rifle. A rifle that was held by a very tall, and very angry black woman.

Tsu’mara stared down the dark haired, gloomy looking man. She couldn’t help but notice an uncanny resemblance to Edgar Allen Poe. She asked, “Isn’t grave robbing punishable by death, Morrison?”

“Depends on the state,” said Morrison who was holding up Alice, who had her hands up and was fighting the urge to brush her short blonde hair out of her face. “But this is our territory, so we can do what we want.”

“Waitwaitwait,” stammered Alice, her hands shaking. “We didn’t know there were any werewolves out here.”

Her mention of her knowledge of werewolves made Morrison lower his rifle from Alice’s face, but still kept it aimed at her. Tsu’mara took that as a silent cue to do the same.

He sniffed the air near Alice to take in her scent and spat, “Witch.”

Poe took the risk to slowly lower his hands and introduced himself, “I’m Poe. This is Alice. Can you please call your packmate off my wife? We can explain everything.”

Without looking away from the two mages nor fully putting his rifle down, Morrison simply said, “Madhouse.”

David, who had Annabel on her rear with her back up against the rusty fence she was leaning against, glared at Morrison for using his deed-name but did what he was told and backed away from the terrified and hyperventilating witch.

Poe breathed a sigh of relief as he watched David back off. He took a deep breath, gathered himself and said, “We were not aware the Uratha Council had a pack out here. We are fully loyal to the protectorate, and if we knew your pack was here we would have asked permission to do what we were doing first.”

Alice warily spoke up, “We’re close to making a breakthrough in our investigation and we’d like to continue with it if you’ll allow us.”

Tsu’mara and Morrison kept their guns trained on Poe and Alice.

“Perhaps,” said Poe, “It would be better to move this conversation away from the current crime in progress.”

“Alright, we’ll do that,” said Morrison, fully lowering his rifle and Tsu’mara did the same. “Tsu’mara, leave the rifles here. Just the rifles.”

“I really don’t want to leave firearms out in the open,” said Tsu’mara. “Can I leave them in the Shadow at least?”

Morrison nodded, “Yeah, Keeper can keep an eye on them.”

After Tsu’mara returned from stashing the rifles Morrison walked the group to the Historic Silver Cafe where everyone pushed two tables together and sat down. Colin stayed in Urhan the whole time and sat on the floor under the table.

A waiter came and took everyone’s orders and patted Colin on the head saying, “Oh, what a well behaved dog.”

Colin played into it by panting happily as he was patted and wagged his tail.

Once the waiter was out of ear shot Morrison asked, “What are a bunch of mages doing in Pioche?”

Poe answered, “My associates and I are part of the Mysterium. The mages that do archeology. There is, of course, more nuance than that but that is what everyone knows us for. We are here looking for the remains of a man named Andrew Canon who stole some valuable artifacts from the Atlantean Orders back during the Civil War. We need his bones in order to summon his ghost so we can find where he stashed them.”

Jesse scoffed, “Well, you’re gonna find that your task is a lot harder than you thought. Because a while ago, the government dug up all the graves and then put them back later. All in different spaces. You weren’t digging up Canon.”

Poe’s face became exasperated, and Annabel swore.

Jesse chuckled, “You roused and pissed off a very powerful spirit doing that. He also happens to be the only person who knows where people are buried in Boothill.”

He then let out a proper laugh, “The funny thing is, if you just let him know what you were gonna do first, he would’ve let you. He won’t now and you’re gonna need to work to get back in his good graces.”

“What will we have to do in order to get back in its good graces and get the location of Andrew Cannon’s grave from it?” asked Poe.

“Pay it kind,” said David, which got Colin’s attention. The red wolf looked up to David with a smile.

Poe looked at David confused and said, “Yeah, that’s what I asked.”

“It’s a death spirit,” said David.

Alice let out a moan of dismay, “Damn.”

Annabel, still anxious to be so near to David, asked Alice, “Maybe you can use your spirit magic to extract the information from this spirit directly or offer it some power in exchange.”

“NO!” shouted Morrison and Alice in unison.

Morrison went on to say “There isn’t to be ANY meddling with Keeper, in fact you lot are not allowed to even enter the Shadow without Uratha supervision. We will Violently oppose any harm to Keeper, he’s too important to the stability of the local Hisil.”

Alice followed up with, “Of course, I have no intention of doing anything like that, Annabel was wrong to even suggest it. I’m going to earn Keeper’s favor, not force the information, I assure you that’s how I would do it even without the Law of the realm. I- oh, wait you called the Shadow the Hisil, that’s the First Tongue, isn’t it? I’ve only heard a few words of the language and-”

Before Alice could babble on further and ask more questions, Morrison growled out another warning, “You better be on your best behavior, witch. This territory is under the same laws as Las Vegas, you fuck around up here you AND your Consilium will pay the blood-cost for violating the Law.”

He turned to Poe and asked the apparent leader of the cabal of mages, “So is she your only Thysus? The only one capable of spirit magic?”

Poe nodded and Morrison growled yet another warning to Alice, “I’ll be keeping a close eye on you, witch.”

Poe cleared his throat to regain Morrison’s attention and said, “We thank you a great deal for this information. Can we be excused to book a motel and prepare to deal with this unexpected wrinkle to this artifact recovery and meet up again tomorrow morning?”

Morrison gave a dismissive wave, and the mages got up to leave. With Annabel practically tripping over herself to get away from David. Once they were gone, Morrison turned to Jesse but saw that he was already gone, tailing after the mages to spy on them.

Jesse reported back to them at the den soon after they returned to it, stating that the mages weren’t doing anything suspicious. But did mention two others that weren’t with them at the graveyard.

***

The next morning the pack and mages met up again at the Historic Silver Cafe, with the two extra mages that Jesse spotted while spying on them. They were introduced by Poe as his apprentices Kevin and Miguel. Kevin was a tall redhead with freckles and wore glasses; Miguel was a short wiry latino. Both appeared to be in their twenties like Alice was.

The two apprentices were very quiet and reserved during the whole meeting with the pack.

“I apologise for my apprentices’ meekness,” said Poe. “They are still new to the world of magic, ghosts, and spirits. They’re also understandably intimidated by meeting with an entire pack of werewolves.”

Poe gave a side eyed glare towards David, “Especially after last night.”

He looked back towards Morrison, who he kept assuming was the pack alpha despite Morrison’s constant denials. “We would like to establish a proper base of operations here in Pioche in order to continue our mission to locate these lost relics. As getting it will take some time to get back into the good graces of this Keeper-of-Boots. Even after that, after obtaining Canon’s remains and extracting the information from his ghost, it might take us some time to track down the relics’ location.”

“I’m curious how they’re gonna pay Keeper to appease him,” David said with a smirk to Colin and loud enough for the mages to hear. Colin gave him a conspiratorial smirk and nudged David’s knee with his own to egg him on.

“Don’t worry,” reassured Alice, “We’re more than willing to work with Keeper and to pay him accordingly.”

Emboldened by Colin egging him on, David leaned over the table towards Alice and asked with a predatory grin, “Oh, but will that be a price you’re willing to pay?”

His grin got wider when he saw Colin smile at him and as he heard and smelt Alice’s fear spike like Annabel’s did last night.

“You’re a shaman. Aren’t you?” stammered Alice. David nodded.

She looked over to Lucas who was looking at her with a slight blush.

“Are you a shaman too?” she asked, seeming calmer talking to him.

He nodded and she muttered under her breath, “Oh, thank god.”

She calmed herself down and told Lucas, “Even if we don’t learn much or if it takes a long while to get back into Keeper’s good graces, we can still strengthen the bonds that tie us together…. I mean, the bonds between the Pentacle and the Protectorate, that tie, wait bond, uhh, ehhem.”

She trailed off and blushed fiercely.

Morrison doesn’t even bother to notice, but it’s obvious to the rest of the pack, except for Lucas, what was going on.

David leaned towards Colin and whispered, “Is it just me or does she have a ‘fascination’ with werewolves?”

“It looks like it,” Colin whispered back.

Alice eventually gathered herself to stop stammering and started peppering Lucas with questions.

Morrison growled in annoyance at the younger mage’s questions and addressed the pack, “Well? It's your territory. What do you want to do with them? Help them?”

“I’m curious to see how they go with Keeper,” said David.

Tsu’mara shrugged, indifferent, and Jesse leaned back in his chair and said, “Yeah, I want to see how they fair with him too.”

Lucas didn’t answer, he was too busy enthusiastically answering Alice’s non-stop questions.

The mages were at an agreement with the pack and spent the next week setting up a base of operations in their motel. They only occasionally met up with the pack during the week, with Alice meeting up with Lucas every now and then to discuss plans on appeasing Keeper-of-Boots.

That was Alice’s excuse at least. She seemed more interested in learning more about werewolves and Lucas whenever the two met. With Lucas completely oblivious to her intentions

***

The pack, now fully settled into Pioche, fell into a routine. The first morning of the week though didn’t start like every other day in the week did.

“JESSE!” roared David as he saw the contents of his clothes drawer.

All of his clothes were gone. Replaced with flannel, jeans, and boxers. The only clothes he had left were the ones he was wearing when he went to bed the other night.

He stormed out into the dining room and saw Jesse sitting at the dining table innocently sipping a cup of coffee.

“What the fuck is this?!” demanded David, holding out one of the flannels and ignoring Colin’s reprimand for his language.

“A shirt?” answered Jesse.

“Where are my clothes?!” demanded David, throwing the flannel at the other man.

Jesse caught the flannel. He placed it on the table and told David, “What makes you think it was me anyways?”

David growled, “You were the one saying what I couldn’t wear and that you had to do something about it.”

“Fair enough,” Jess said with a shrug. “They’re in a pile of ash in the desert.”

David inhaled sharply and moved to leap at Jesse to strangle him but was stopped when Colin stepped in between the two.

“Oh, this is nice,” Colin said as he picked up the flannel. “It’s really soft.”

He held it up to look at it, stepping back at the same time David tried to walk around him to get to Jesse.

He turned to face David and held it against David’s chest with a smile, “I think it’d look nice on you.”

David’s face flushed and he softly took the shirt from Colin before he slinked back to the bedroom. He shuffled nervously out soon after dressed in the flannel, jeans, and a belt that he found in the drawer.

Jesse wolf-whistled when David walked which made David scowl at him.

Jesse chuckled at the scowl and noted, “If I didn’t know you, I actually would’ve thought you were Elder Morrison’s grandson.”

He pointed a finger at David that wandered up and down David’s body, “Out of all of us, and dressed like that, you genuinely look like you're related to him.”

“And I think you look really good dressed like that,” added Colin, his eyes roaming up and down David. “Like a cowboy.”

Colin’s comment made David blush and he quickly shuffled to the library, with Jesse and Colin snickering to each other like school girls at his exit.

The pack fell in the routine they had formed since they moved to Pioche. Jesse streamed in the semi-restored cabin. Tsu’mara started her job as security at the Silver Head mine. Luas worked in the library. And Colin worked as a bartender at the Nevada Club of Pioche.

David still didn’t have any job to go to, though not for a lack of trying this time. He did honestly try to get work, but all the prospective employers turned him down. From just disturbed appearance alone most of the time. But on the rare occasion he managed to get his foot in the door, despite his appearance, his complete lack of work experience had the rest turning him down.

Colin saw this and tried to help by talking David up while he was bartending but he was met with the same roadblocks. Once they realised Colin was talking about Morrison’s “weird grandson” they all started coming up with excuses on why they couldn’t hire David. One outright said they wouldn’t hire him because he looked insane which Colin begrudgingly respected him for his honesty.

He was at a loss on what to do for David. If they lived in Vegas proper he could’ve gotten him a job working for the Protectorate directly. Like working as an assistant for an elder like he did, or behind the scenes at one of the casino’s. David’s talent with spirits would certainly help keep the gambling and addiction spirits in line.

Jeering cackles from outside the club broke Colin out of his thoughts. He looked up from the bar and saw out the window a group of teenagers heckling passersby and patrons. He heard Blondie click her tongue in annoyance.

“Great, the brats are back again,” she said. She picked up the phone she kept behind the bar. “I’m calling the sheriff again.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Colin as he looked at the gang’s reaction to something they saw outside the club.

The gang stopped their heckling, suddenly nervous about something just out of sight. They puffed out their chests and deepened their voices in an immature attempt at intimidating whatever was approaching them.

They didn’t keep it up for long, their resolve broke and they dispersed. Almost running away from whatever was coming.

It turned out to be David, who slowly walked by the window hunched over and lost in his own thoughts. Unaware of the effect he had on the teenagers disrupting the local businesses. That gave Colin an idea.

He tried to implement that idea the next day on his day off and after dinner. He wanted to make sure the person he asked was in the best mood possible when he brought up his request, and Jesse’s cooking was just what he needed.

Morrison opened his cabin door before Colin even got the chance to knock.

“What do you want?” scowled Morrison.

Jesse was right, Colin realised. Out of all them, David really did pass as being related to the elder the most.

He didn’t want to get off track. He needed to play his hand as perfectly as possible if he was going to pull his idea off. An endearing or cheerful smile wouldn’t work. His prior attempts at getting into the elder’s good graces told him that.

He avoided the elder’s domineering gaze as the elder waited for his answer. A meek approach would work best and he deliberately softened his voice, “When we first moved into the Den, you said we needed to ingratiate ourselves with the locals and get jobs.”

“And you did,” said Elder Morrison.

He was about to close his door when Colin added, adding a nervous stammer to his voice, “Not everyone. Because of his past and how he looks, David hasn’t been able to get one.”

Elder Morrison didn’t reply, but kept his door opened as he waited for Colin to get to his point. Knowing full well that the wolf-blood was trying to con a favour out of him.

“I’ve tried my best to help my tribemate, but everything I’ve tried failed,” said Colin, making sure to keep avoiding the elder’s eyes and sound ashamed. “I really don’t know what else to do, Elder.”

It was a risk calling him elder after being told not to by him. But it went against how Colin was raised. It would have been disrespectful not to call him by his title. It also irked Colin implying that he failed as a Bone Shadow. But he needed to appeal to the elder’s tribe, and the easiest way to do that was to demean his own to make the Elder’s seem greater. He also knew, from the look Elder Morrison was giving him, that the Elder knew Colin’s play. But Colin was banking that the Elder’s ego as a Storm Lord would force his hand despite it. The Storm Lords do believe after all that they, out of all the Forsaken tribes, should lead.

There was silence for a long moment before Morrison growled, “Hrrm.”

Morrison closed his cabin door and Colin took that as his cue to leave. He didn’t let out the breath he was holding until he was back in the den.

“It wasn’t a no,” he told himself. He considered that a success and now he just needed to wait to see if his plan worked.

He only had to wait until the end of the week during breakfast to find out.

The pack was eating a full English breakfast when Morrison came in dressed in his deputy uniform, ready to start the day’s shift. As he walked past to get some breakfast for himself he dropped a pile of khaki coloured clothes in front of David.

“Put those on,” Morrison told him.

David picked up a shirt from the pile of clothes Morrison dumped in front of him with two fingers like it was soiled. It was a Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department uniform.

“Why?” asked David.

“Just do it,” said Morrison, sitting down at the table to eat breakfast.

“Why?” David asked again.

Morrison groaned and slammed his fork down, making the rest of the pack flinch. “I told you lot when you moved in that you needed to get jobs. It’s been weeks and you’re the only one who hasn’t gotten one yet.”

He pointed at David with his knife and said with a firm voice, “So you’re gonna put on that uniform, and you’re gonna work with me for the Department as a deputy, and you’re gonna ingratiate yourself with the locals so they’ll stop thinking you’re gonna snap on them.”

“But-” David started to say before Morrison cut him off.

“NOW!” he roared, making David dart off into the bedroom to do as he was told.

***

David sat in the passenger seat of Morrison’s work SUV with his head against the door. He found working as a sheriff’s deputy incredibly boring. It was all telling loiterers to move on or settling disputes that shouldn’t have required the sheriff’s department to begin with. No wonder the Sheriff was more interested in learning Morrison’s family gossip, nothing ever happened in the county the department operated in, despite its massive size.. Not even drugs were anything he dealt with since they blew up the supplier’s lab, along with its suppliers, the week before. And the dealer’s who peddled them were all laying low after the fallout of it.

It was even more boring now, as they were parked on the side of US93 halfway between Pioche and Caliente. Morrison had a speed radar in hand, ready for any cars that come up or down the highway. Cars that almost never came for the entire time they had been on the road, and when they did they were always going the speed limit.

“Fifty-five miles per hour exactly,” Morrison said as an old sedan drove by before turning off towards Panaca.

“Again,” complained David as he sat up and threw up a hand, “What’s the point of having a speed trap here? There’s no trees to hide behind and everything’s flat.”

“We’re not that obvious,” said Morrison, keeping his eye on the road.

David pointed down the highway towards small specks on the horizon, “Old Man, I can see Panaca from here! No one’s gonna speed when they can see us from the next town over.”

“That’s the point, Madhouse,” Morrison growled, deliberately using the deed-name that David hated. “Our job is to prevent crime. Not just react to it. Just our presence stopping them from committing crimes is a good thing.”

David put his head back against the door with an annoyed huff.

“Asides, why are you even complaining?” asked Morrison. “You’re essentially getting paid to sit on your ass and do nothing. That’s a good deal. A damn good deal.”

They stayed in the seemingly ineffective speed trap until the sun was high in the sky. They were in the middle of eating a lunch of raw meats, since the elder could only get sustenance from raw meat, when a call came over the SUV’s radio.

“Hey, Ben,” said the dispatcher on the other end of the radio.

Morrison picked it up and responded, “What’s the issue, Andy?”

“The Barnes Canyon Rehab Center is having a problem with one of their patients and is requesting help from the department, and you and your rookie’s speed trap is the closest.”

“Got it, we’ll be right there,” Morrison said before hanging the radio up.

He turned the car on and said to David, “Well, looks like you’ll be getting the action you wanted after all.”

David didn’t say anything, his blood ran cold when he heard the Rehab centre’s name. Barnes Canyon.

That was in Caliente. Pure territory.