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LYKOSSecond Skin Chapter 9 (Unexpected Reunion)

The distant sound of jet engines radiated out from the Denver airport, sounding like the rise and fall of ocean waves in their own strange way. The sun had barely started to rise, the light coming from the horizon was blue and alien. The glint of metal and the vast white canopies of the airport contrasted the backdrop of the more natural terrain... Somehow it was beautiful to Auel, but maybe that was just because it was so damned early.

The twenty seven year old tipped back a silver and white can of energy drink, the liquid hitting his tongue like a bitter salve to clear his head. He had been sent on a mission to retrieve supplies for Ren. Some were mission critical, others were mere comforts. It was part and parcel with being a Keeper, though it really felt more like something an intern might do.

Auel glanced up at the mirror of the white van he'd rented, catching sight of his reflection in the mirror. His dusty brown hair was tied into a high ponytail at the back of his head, though stray bits of hair hung down on either side of his face. His skin had a faint perpetual tan to it, though nothing specific enough to place, and his hazel eyes were tired, but looking at the world with a more curious view than they once had. He reached up to rub at a bit of pale brown stubble on his chin before he sensed a change.

The rumble of a rubber casters on cement, shaking a metal cart and the contents on it. The cart was wide, flat, low. The person pushing it was unused to the load, but they managed to get it over to the appointed spot. Auel had grabbed the checklist and moved into position before the delivery boy had even realized he was there. He had also ensured that the driver side door was cracked just in case he needed to make a speedy delivery.

"Name?" The delivery boy asked, coming to a stop.

"Auel Myerson, Order IN-JU-224567." Auel said. The delivery boy checked his own paperwork before nodding. Auel grabbed a crowbar and moved toward the cart. The wooden crates were from Japan, having sat in customs for the appointed duration. The delivery boy looked a little wary as Auel cracked them open, but Auel would take nothing to chance. It had been werewolf hunters that had attacked the airports worldwide, including the Denver Airport. He wasn't about to take something into the heart of the werewolves' sanctuary by accident.

Auel double checked each crate against his manifest. There were teas, books, scrolls, trinkets, herbs and tonics. Some items were disguised to make them look like everyday objects, and others had no need to be hidden. Everything was in its place, and there was nothing extra. Auel pulled out a fifty dollar bill and handed it to the delivery boy. He looked a bit surprised but cracked a grin. Having seen the contents himself, none of it seemed that special. None of the containers were even big enough to hold drugs, but it made the wait worth it.

It took only a few moments to load the crates into the back of the truck, and then that same rattling rumble came as the now-empty cart was pushed back toward the airport. Auel locked up his cargo and climbed back into the van, strapping in. He pulled the door to shut it but paused, keeping it cracked as another jet took off. The roar of the engine grew louder, deeper, stronger... and then fainter again. Auel's hazel eyes opened slowly.

"What are you doing..." He whispered softly. It was a question he had been asking himself for over a year. He had been raised as a werewolf hunter, as his father and grandfather had been. He had gotten involved with Rising Sun in its infancy, but that had led him to a mystery that culminated in the Blood Moon Eclipse. He'd been instrumental in ending a threat to the world that day, but it had come at such a cost.

The van rumbled to life as Auel turned the key, making sure his door was shut tight. He double checked his surroundings and started to pull out, leaving the airport behind. He'd need to fuel up again before he returned to Echo Creek, before he returned to his new life. Auel checked the mirrors, then looked ahead, pulling down the access road. His fingers drummed the steering wheel cover, feeling the leather on it, feeling how close it was to the grip of his crossbow.

"What are you doing..." he whispered to himself again. Auel ran it through his brain yet again. He'd been led to Marco, knowing he was the answer to the coming threat - and he had been. The threat was ended, at least... that threat. And what had he done? He stuck around, started learning from those that kept the secret of the werewolves in a world that now knew they existed. He learned the tricks of the trade, their methods, their techniques... It was information that any hunter would have gladly killed to have, and they shared it freely.

"You have not killed an innocent wolf. For that, I let you live." Auel repeated after a moment. It had been that statement that Ren had said upon meeting him. Was it that acceptance that had allowed him to ally himself with the keepers? Was it that balance that let him trust them? Auel exhaled slowly. Maybe he was getting too old. It seemed like the energy drinks just made him more anxious than they woke him up. Auel reached down and flicked on the radio to keep himself awake.

"-ongoing joint session in Congress today where Senator Jensen is expected to detail his plans for the lycanthrope registration act. Protests and demonstrations have already started across Washington, prompting a response from oppositional leader Senator Moore who had this to say." The announcer explained before an audio recording cut in.

"In the long, proud history of our nation there have been times where we have allowed fear, paranoia, and panic to push us to the edges of reason. In these dark times we have turned on our own and committed unspeakable acts. The forced identification of a group seen as other by the masses is a threat to the safety of those exposed and the moral fiber of those that may take action against them. The future of this nation is built strongest when we all have a hand in making it, and when we are not using our hands to harm one another. Today must be the day we show that we are one nation together, and not repeat the mistakes of our dark past." Senator Moore's audio clip ended and the announcer cut back in, leaving Auel to worry less about the path his life had taken, feeling reassured by his choices.

****

The room was quiet and still, the early morning sunrise sending silver and gold light through the tiny perforations in the dark blue curtain over the window. The light pooled in the corner of the room just above the twin sized bed pushed there, illuminating the colorful prayer flags taped to the wall. It was always the first thing Ethan saw when he woke up, though at the moment he was caught in a war between the sleeping and waking worlds.

The human mind was a strange thing, especially when it was tinged with the touch of the supernatural world. Ethan understood the psychology of depression and how it could lead to insomnia; the assumed expectations of others, the pressures and responsibilities of day to day life, as normal people went to sleep, all that pressure lifted. That led to a pattern of being most awake at night, and in turn being exhausted the next day - even less able to handle the weight of everything. Knowing how it worked still didn't help Ethan any.

He clenched his eyes shut, trying to stay asleep. He needed the rest and the healing... but it didn't come easily. Aside from the depression, Ethan's growing neuromancy made it more difficult. During his waking hours he could filter his thoughts and those of others, but at night? When he was asleep? It came at him like tinnitus, a ringing in the ear - or rather the mind. It was a buzzing noise, a muffled chaos of those around him like Silas, like Auel. It spilled over into his own dreams, complicating them, confusing them.

"Ethan..." He heard his voice being called out by a voice he never wanted to hear again, Demeas. "Ethan..." He heard his voice being called out by his brother, someone he had craved to hear again for so long.

"Ethan." This voice was more stoic, melodic, and... real. Ethan's eyes opened, seeing the prayer flags on the wall first before he rolled over to see Ren there. He blinked, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. Despite the incredibly early hour, Ren was already dressed. Her garb was less formal than usual, though her blouse was covered with a red and black maru mon flower pattern that contrasted her black slacks.

"What is it? Did something happen?" Ethan asked, sitting up. His rich brown skin gleamed in the light that made it past the curtain, and his hair had grown out a bit more from the last time he had shaved it clean. Ren had been a sign of strength, an unswayable force acting as a beacon in Ethan's rehabilitation. She had offered him advice, sanctuary, and someone to listen... but she had also always shown some measure of detachment. When she moved to sit down on the edge of Ethan's bed, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Something did happen, yes." She said carefully, "Something has been happening for some time, outside of our purview and it is this day that it reveals itself to us."

"That's... mysterious as hell." Ethan said. Ren formed a soft, small smile.

"Well, you know me. I cannot resist." She said before sobering, "But this is something amazing, confusing, something that will be hard to understand. This is something that will reshape your life in ways we cannot fathom. I want you to know that we will all be here for you, however this unfolds."

"Ren, this... is scaring me." Ethan said. Ren nodded.

"Me too, but we must press on. Once you are dressed, please come downstairs. You have a visitor." Ren said before she rose to her feet and exited the room. Ethan swallowed, fully awake and fully alert. He tried to reach out with his mind to get a sense of his surroundings, but he was too anxious now. He was numb to it all. The keeper scrambled out of bed and moved to the dresser, pulling on a pale yellow button up shirt and khaki pants, slipping his feet into sandals before he stepped out of his room.

Ethan started the long descend down from the upper floor of the museum, navigating his way down around the corner of the stairs, doubling back down towards Ren's study. As he descended, he saw two men - one of which he recognized instantly as Doctor Woods, the other he had seen around the hospital as well. Two doctors, that didn't bode well... Ethan continued his descent before he saw a third figure, a young man he could never forget.

"Conrad!" Ethan gasped, his heart skipping a beat.

****

Dust kicked up from the tires of the van as it pulled off the road, coming to a stop next to the row of gas pumps in front of the weather beaten convenience store. Auel reached down and pulled the lever that popped the gas cover and slipped out of the driver's seat, coming around the back of the van. As he rounded the corner, his eyes came across a very nice, very polished Harley Davidson motorcycle. It was a beautiful machine, a hybrid between the sleek black with red trim style that was popular with sport bikes, and the raw unadulterated power that the classic Harleys had.

A bell jangled from the convenience store, a tall man stepping out. He was in his late thirties, his windswept brownish black hair cascading down to his shoulders. Polarized sunglasses rested on his face, making his eyes impossible to see, and his black jacket had the same red trim as the rims on his motorcycle. His pants were a specialized material - not quite leather - holding countless pockets.

"Auel?" the man asked. Auel's eyes widened in surprise. He looked back at the man's face. It took a moment, but he imagined him with red pigment spread across it, the sort of pigment that some hunters used to intimidate their werewolf prey.

"Wes..." Auel murmured a name he hadn't expected to ever say again.

"Dude, it's been ages! Were you arrested?" Wes asked. Auel shook his head.

"No, I didn't take part in the airport attacks. I was on my own mystery at the time and came back too late." Auel replied.

"Maybe it was for the best, even with sympathizers out there, the world still came down pretty harsh on hunters... But did you go completely off grid, man?" Wes asked, moving over to slap Auel's shoulders with his strong, scarred arm. Auel looked at it, feeling an urge to flee, but he knew he couldn't. Anything suspicious could track back to Echo Creek and put his friends in danger.

"I don't know if we should be talking about this out in the open." Auel said. Wes considered before nodding.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just lucky we got this unexpected reunion." Wes chuckled, "There's a bar down the way. How about we share a few cold ones and get caught up." Wes said. Auel forced a smile and nodded.

"Sure, sounds great." Auel said, reaching for the gas nozzle to refill the van. Wes headed back to his bike to get situated, waiting for Auel. Somehow Auel felt as though he'd been caught in one of his own traps.

****

The room was still quiet from the revelation, Ethan standing at the base of the stairs. Conrad pushed himself up, a little wobbly but able to find his balance soon after. He'd been given a red sweatshirt similar to the one he'd worn in high school, and black jeans. His hair was thickest on top, just like the frohawk he'd always worn, but the sides had grown out a great deal. Ethan trembled before he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his brother.

"Hey there big guy, been a while?" Conrad asked, his voice still a bit hoarse. Ethan held on to Conrad, sobbing into his shoulder, not wanting to let go. Conrad lowered his head to rest against his brother's, the two supporting each other. After several moments Ethan lifted his head, trying to catch his breath. Conrad gave him a reassuring smile and Ethan nodded, walking over toward a couch resting beneath a particularly large floor to ceiling bookshelf.

"Where did you find him?" Ren asked, breaking the relative quiet. Noah looked up at that, a little surprised. He had expected a question like 'how is this possible' but apparently these people were more used to the supernatural life than he was.

"Conrad was found seven miles outside of town at the edge of the highway, dehydrated, malnourished and in a comatose state. He bounced back physiologically with little effort, but his mental state did not improve until recently." Doctor Woods explained.

"What do you remember?" Ethan asked, looking into his brother's eyes.

"Not much. I mean, I remember the direwolf attacking the school. Pulling the fire alarm, trying to keep the direwolf back while people got out... The sprinklers going off, pouring down over us. I remember you there, with me, holding me... and then I woke up in the clinic with the docs there." Conrad said.

"Do you remember any of your dreams?" Ren asked. Ethan looked up at that, his muscles tightening a bit. Conrad strained, his brow furrowed as he contemplated.

"I don't know, maybe something about swimming, and there was a whirlpool? But it was red... red light." Conrad said. Ethan's stomach clenched tight enough that he nearly threw up, knowing that it had been his cooperation with a dark spirit that had brought his brother back to life, that all the pain and suffering he had unleashed on the world... had satisfied the deal he made with Demeas.

"What else?" Ren asked. Ethan blinked, shaken back to the moment. Conrad tried as hard as he could to think.

"There was something with me in the darkness, something... protecting me. It felt familiar, friendly, soft... I think it was like a big cat or something, a cougar maybe." Conrad said, looking up, "I mean, I had a lot of stuffed animals as a kid. Maybe I was just thinking of that." he said. Ren smiled and nodded, though Ethan knew it was a smile she put on for show. Ren crossed the room and poured more tea for everyone.

"So I guess the next question is, what happens now?" Noah asked.

"We tell my parents." Ethan replied simply.

"They'll... be okay with that?" Noah asked in surprise.

"Keepers come in all shapes and sizes. When my brother became a werewolf, I learned magic to help him... but my parents had to keep the secret too. They had to bend their life around it, reshape it, and learn to embrace the magical. I don't think they'll have any regrets about getting their son back." Ethan said. Conrad looked a little wet eyed at that, thinking how good it would be to see their parents.

"They may have to move, if they are to reincorporate you into their lives." Ren said, "Their friends, their neighbors, they know you have passed on."

"That doesn't matter. My parents will do anything to have their son back." Ethan said protectively. Ren nodded.

"As you would." Ren replied. Ethan froze at that, feeling caught. He knew that the doctors didn't know what he had done, even Conrad didn't... but Ren did. That had been Ren's warning to be careful, to be cautious.

"Is there anything I need to worry about, like, medically?" Conrad asked. Doctor Woods smiled and shook his head.

"Not from our end. Your lycanthropy kept you healthy while you were in a coma, and the coma kept you from transforming during the full moons. Your next transformation might be a bit rougher than the ones you remembered, but other than that I think you'll be okay." Nathan explained.

"Although I wouldn't mind if you kept us updated on anything that happens, I've never really had a case like this." Noah chimed in.

"Of course, yeah. Not a problem, man." Conrad said with a grin, looking back at Ethan, looking at just how much he'd grown and aged and changed, seeing the subtle shifts, the tiny quirks. It was surreal, but there was nothing that could compare to the look of pure joy and relief that came from Ethan seeing his brother alive again.

****

Lilting tones poured out of the jukebox, filling the relatively spacious bar with one of the year's top country songs. It was the third one to play since Auel and Wes had entered, though this one was the first not to actively irritate Auel. The two had settled down in a corner booth, the farthest from the door. It was an old tactic, to be able to see any that entered, but it also gave them both a clear view of the bar, taking in the ambience.

Wood panel walls, well worn pleather seat covers, neon beer signs and posters of musicians from years gone by. The Cornerstone was one of Denver's better bars, though this early in the morning there weren't many customers. Wes lifted his beer bottle and took a swig, letting the liquid slosh across his tongue before he drank it down. Auel lifted his own bottle, his fingers clutching the chilled amber glass, his nose detecting the acrid herbal aroma of the hops, and thankfully no signs of poison.

"Man, it feels like it's been ages..." Wes said, shaking his head. He finally took off his glasses, revealing a pale scar that cut through his left eyebrow and resumed on his left cheek, thankfully skipping over his eye. He took another sip of his beer, "We really should have caught up before now."

"Well, I've been off the grid..." Auel shrugged, sipping his beer, careful of his intake.

"You hung up your crossbow? I can't believe that... The Meyersons are legends." Wes said. Auel shook his head.

"No, my dad's the legend... His dad was a laughing stock and I never measured up. It was just easier to step away when everything hit the fan." Auel said. It was honestly a little scary how easy it was to lie, how easy the cadence came, the flow. It reminded him of what life had been like before he stumbled on the deeper truth.

"Well, maybe it was a good thing. Things... have changed so much since that damned eclipse." Wes said, glancing up around, making sure the bartender was still out of earshot and that the other customers were engrossed enough in their own affairs, "And not just the wolves either." he added. Auel's eyebrow rose at that.

"What do you mean?" Auel asked. The last thing he had wanted was to be trapped here with a living reminder of his old life, but there was a gnawing curiosity, a yearning to know.

"Well, like... you and I were raised with the rules. There are three kinds of wolves; the monsters, the mimics, and the dead. The monsters are easy to find... Leaving trails of blood, their own and their victims." Wes said. Auel was very familiar with direwolves. They had been the only kind he had hunted. "The mimics are trickier, blending in, smart, keeping their wits about them... But after the eclipse, some of the monsters started acting more like mimics, and some of the mimics got more animal in them. The lines got blurry."

"Like whatever system they operated on got updated?" Auel asked. He hesitated to even say it out loud, but after being present for the ancient progenitor of the direwolves' return, it was hard not to chime in.

"Yeah!" Wes said, "Yeah... yeah. It got crazy, but that was just the start of it. The Rising Sun attacks on the airports were considered a terror attack, even AFTER the world learned about werewolves. We lost over a third of our cells in just two months. Then the eclipse? The monsters out on a bloody rampage? We lost another third of our hunters."

"I knew it was bad, but I had no idea it was that bad." Auel said, leaning back in his seat. A tiny part of him wondered if his father was still alive, but the rest of him knew that no answer to that question would be one that brought him joy.

"So we took a cue from our enemies, we pulled back a little and licked our wounds. We were out of people, out of ammo, and then..." Wes trailed off, looking around before he looked back at Auel, shaking his head with a sigh, "You're out of this life though... I shouldn't be weighing you down." he said. Auel stiffened a bit, taking a bigger drink from his beer bottle. He hadn't wanted to get dragged into this reunion in the first place, and now he was being offered an out, but his curiosity was too great.

"I know it's selfish of me..." Auel said, "I can't play the game anymore. I had to settle for a more ordinary life... but I still want to know about the cause." he said, sounding earnest and sincere. Once again the lies had come too easily even though the words felt as acrid as his beer and as harsh as the country music playing from the jukebox. Wes, however, seemed reassured.

"Well, we're actually doing better now. Better than we have been in a long time. Some of the cells found a way to turn what we do into a profitable business... Werewolf bounties, dead or alive. They actually pay more for the living, though it's dangerous work... and we've got new toys, better gear than we've ever had." Wes said.

"Who?" Auel asked. Wes smirked and shook his head.

"Sorry my brother, even in our own cells that's privileged information. All I can do is reassure you that the cause is strong and we're doing fine. We'd do better with you back on our side though, I'm sure you could make your daddy proud." Wes said. The words felt like vile poison simmering in the pit of Auel's stomach. He turned that pain into a smile.

"It's tempting..." Auel lied, "But I'm going to have to rest assured that you're all doing the good work out there while I take things at a slower pace." he said, taking another sip of beer. Wes nodded.

"Our loss... But I can't blame you. We lost a lot of good people, good friends in the dark times." Wes said. Auel raised his beer bottle.

"Then let's remember them." Auel said, raising his glass. He would remember the hunters without the veil of nostalgia or family, without the conceit of righteousness. He knew the werewolves now, knew that they were all sorts of people; good, evil, innocent, guilty, mild, and dangerous. The hunters could be given no such range. They were focused and dedicated to the eradication of a group of people regardless of context or facts.

"To them." Wes said with a soft smile, clinking the glass bottle against Auel's.

****

The museum was quiet and still. The tours were done for the day, Ethan and Conrad had left for the airport. Ren had left her study, going instead to sit in one of the overstuffed red chairs in a hallway overlooking the courtyard. She sat with one leg crossed beneath her, the other stretched down in front of the chair, an old book resting in her lap. Ren had turned on the radio as background noise to try and help her as she researched.

On the other side of the glass, out in the courtyard, Silas was doing pull ups on a metal bar he'd installed. His coppery hair was slicked with sweat. He was gaining greater and greater control over his transformation, his amber eyes shifted back to green, his claws retracted into fingernails, but the one thing he had a hard time shaking were his wolf ears, perked up above his head, animal and alien unless he concentrated with all his might. Still, Ren was proud of his progress, and she felt some comfort that he was still there while everyone else was away.

Ren had started with the Voynich Manuscript, one of the most famous Keeper texts, before moving into a reproduction of an older Chinese tome. Something Conrad had mentioned made her curious. Her fingers traced across depictions of dragons, of bat like creatures, of werewolves, and of spirits forgotten by time. Her honey colored eyes regarded her nails, realizing it was most likely time to repaint them.

"Senator, senator, has there been any progress in session today?" A reporter asked on the radio, a flutter of camera flashes audible even on the audio broadcast.

"I know some of our opponents claim that congress operates at a glacial speed, but I think our conversation today has been digging down to the root of the issue." Senator Moore explained, "It is a more complex situation that Senator Jensen proposes. It isn't like registering a driver or registering a weapon. These are living, breathing people, citizens of our nation, and we owe it to-"

There was a crack in the audio, then screams, a thud, chaos. Ren froze, her heart sinking and her stomach tightening. She lowered the book in her lap, her eyes directing toward the radio sitting on the wooden floor, propped up with a battered metal antenna stretched out toward the window. Outside Silas had stopped as well, dropping from the bar. He grabbed his towel off the rock and came around the edge of the courtyard, leaning in through the open doorway.

"Was that-" Silas asked, but Ren shook her head and he fell silent. There was more scattering on the radio before the feed clicked and cut out for a moment. There was silence for several moments, then another line cutting in, something clearer, something in studio.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are receiving word now that from all indications, there has been a tragic event outside of the congress building in Washington D.C. just now." The announcer said, out of breath, hurried, stressed, "Senator Neil Moore of California has been cut down by assassin's bullets during a press briefing in front of the capitol building. His current condition is unknown, and connection with those at the event has been lost. We will now hand our broadcast over to the local station, reporting from a safe distance." The reporter announced stoically.

Silas took a breath and looked up at Ren, his eyes uncertain. Ren closed her book and set it to the side, stood up and crossed the hall, crouching to turn off the radio. She moved back to her seat and sat down, patting the arm of her chair. Silas moved over and sat down, the heat from his body turning to a bit of a chill as the cooler conditioned air blew across his skin.

"He was trying to keep us safe... He was doing a good job of it." Silas said. Ren smiled sadly at that and nodded.

"He was, and I am glad you were paying attention to that. Hopefully others were as well."

"But won't it just make them sad?" Silas asked.

"Sad, angry, perhaps even riotous. Noble intentions can be mobilized by the darkest impulses. This... is how martyrs are created." Ren said. Silas looked shocked by the idea, but from the moment of the gunshot, Ren held a dark fear in her heart. The outcome would be the same regardless, Senator Moore's injury or death would rally more to his cause and stall the registration act, but the origin? Did the bullet come from someone angry at his protection of the werewolves, or from someone who knew that the road to civil protections was often paved with blood? It was a thought she didn't want to indulge at the moment, especially at Silas' expense.

"What happens now?" Silas asked.

"We wait, we listen, we tread carefully, and we hope that out of this pain something great will blossom, something green and full of life to nourish the future." Ren said. Silas nodded softly at that, though his head was still a bit drooped. Ren reached up and rubbed his back softly, trying to give him what little strength she held on to in sad times.