Evan Hart
It was six o'clock and I was in the middle of my all too familiar, morning ritual. I'd already showered, got dressed and made my way down to the kitchen to make myself and Mason a cup of coffee. I used to make him breakfast too, but I gave up bothering. He never touched it anyway. I was finishing pouring out Mason's coffee when I heard footsteps approaching from behind me.
“Hey Evan. I'll have one of those if there's any going spare?” Carmen asked mid-yawn, while sitting down at the dining table.
She was pretty polite about it, but it was too damn early for me to be dealing with her. I couldn't stand the girl. She was the whole reason why we were in this mess to begin with. It had been just under two months since she’d stabbed Freya's wolf with her silver hunting knife. She had managed to play the innocent card with most of the other hunters, but her horse shit didn't wash with me. See, Mason wanted to believe that Carmen didn't know that the wolf was Freya when she stabbed her. Well, fair enough, she may not have known for sure that it was Freya, but I know for a fact that she damn well knew it was a hunter. Carmen, Finn and Stevie were with Freya in her wolf form for a good five to ten minutes before we arrived on the scene.
I've been hunting with Finn since he was sixteen years old and he may be a little slow intellectually, but when it comes to fighting, hell that boy can move. In all the years that I have known him, he has never been so much as scratched by a wolf, let alone bitten. So, seeing him sitting there dazed on the woodland floor, cradling his torn-up and bloodied arm, I knew instantly that something wasn't right. The moment I gazed into that mega wolf's eyes. I knew it was Freya. I mean it had to be, or at the very least, another hunter. It had eyes exactly the same as our own. They were ice-blue in color and they had our signature white vortex swirling around the pupil. There was no way that any hunter could say that they didn't recognize those eyes.
If I spotted them, and so did Mason, and Finn, then there is no way in hell that Carmen didn't. My theory was that she'd worked out that the werewolf was Freya and decided to stab her anyway. We all knew that she was in love with Mason and I think she saw it as her opportunity to get rid of his Fianna, once and for all.
I picked up the two cups of coffee and strolled towards the door. I didn’t want to stay in the room with her any longer than I had to.
“It's in the pot. Get your own damn coffee!”
I immediately stopped in my tracks when I heard her slam her fists onto the table.
“What the fuck is your problem, Evan? What have I ever done to you, huh?”
While smirking I thought to myself, fuck it! It's about time somebody said something to this snaky bitch. After casually turning around, I walked over to the dining table and placed the two cups onto it. She glared up at me with her chocolate brown eyes fully illuminated.
“Carmen, you stabbed one of my best friends in the stomach and now you want me to be pleasant to you and make you a coffee? I don't fucking think so, sweetheart. You're lucky I didn't throw the whole steaming pot over your head!”
I chuckled inside while watching her eyes widen and her mouth drop open in shock.
She was clearly astounded that someone had the balls to call her out. She swiftly lifted her eyebrows and replied in an innocent voice,
“I didn't know it was Freya. Honestly, I didn't. I was just trying to protect, Finnley and Stevie.” I raised my eyebrow at her, letting her know that I didn’t buy her innocent act. “She was out of control, Evan. She would have killed us all if I hadn't taken her down. I mean look what she's done to Finn!”
She lowered her head and stared at the floor with genuine sadness on her face. I didn't doubt for a minute that she felt bad for what had happened to Finn. But I knew, Freya and I knew that she would have only been protecting herself against an unknown group of hunters that were trying to kill her.
When Mason and I arrived in the clearing, Freya instantly recognized us and ceased her attack. She even bowed her head in submission. That wasn't a sign that she had lost control at all. I watched her behaviour that night with fascination. I had always thought that werewolves in their wolf form had lost control and had become savage beasts, but she showed me that they could be in complete control of their wolves.
I glared back at Carmen. I couldn’t let her play the innocent party anymore and I was fed up to the back teeth of her walking around the cabin like some damn hero. Freya would eventually be our Fionn and Carmen had been sneaking around riling a lot of the other hunters up. I could not stand for it anymore. Whether Carmen and some of the other hunters liked it or not, it was a long-standing tradition that the previous Fionn's eldest child took over as the new leader of the faction. I couldn’t let Carmen’s jealousy, or the other hunters prejudice get in the way of what Damien would have wanted. I had heard whispers from some of the other hunters, that if Freya became our new Fionn, Carmen had said that she would go to the hunter’s council and inform them that Freya was a werewolf.
I knew that we wouldn't be able to keep the secret from the council for long, but I was hoping that she'd have a little more time to be able to go through with her hunter’s initiation ceremony. At least then, she would hate the supernatural beings just as much as the rest of us did. She could settle into her new role as Fionn and show the council that she was the strongest and most deadly hunter and Fionn that had ever walked this earth. If the council did find out her secret, Mason and I had a whole speech planned out. We would have said that if the Archangel’s didn't want her to be a werewolf, then they would have let her die during the transition. They must have had a greater plan for her and for our faction.
“I don't buy the innocent act Carmen. So, you can stop the theatrics right now!” I snapped at her, making sure to illuminate my own eyes so that she knew I wasn't playing.
She lifted her head up and smirked at me. She boldly sat back into her chair and folded her arms.
“I can't get anything past you, can I, Evan?” She asked rhetorically, while raising one questioning eyebrow. “So, what do you know exactly?”
“Well for one, I know that you knew that wolf was, Freya when you stabbed her. We all noticed her eyes instantly, so there is no way in hell you could have missed them. And two, I know you plan on going to the hunter’s council to inform them that Freya is a werewolf.”
I stood there glaring at her, waiting for her response. She didn't look shocked, or hurt by my accusations. She just casually took her hair bobble off of her wrist, placed it in between her teeth, then proceeded to use both of her hands to pull her long blonde hair back into a ponytail.
I rolled my eyes and exhaled heavily, making my rising irritation known. She took her time putting her hair up, then she cheekily leaned over the table and stole my coffee. I couldn't believe the nerve of the girl. She really was a total bitch, through and through.
“I can't be bothered with this childish shit. Suit yourself. I'll just go and tell, Mason my theories, shall I?” I picked up Mason's coffee and began to storm out of the room.
Just as I'd thought! My threat had worked and she responded within seconds,
“No, Evan. Please don't. He'll kill me!” She pleaded with me.
I wasn't in the slightest bit bothered whether or not Mason would punish her for what she'd done. Frankly, she deserved everything she'd get and more. But, luckily for her, I didn't intend on telling Mason anything. He had enough on his plate right now and with the way he had been feeling lately, he could very well kill Carmen. Not that I'd care if he did, but with the current divided state of the hunters in our faction, that wouldn't be an advisable thing to do. They could end up seeing Carmen as an innocent victim and then lose faith in Mason as our leader altogether. To be honest we were fractured enough as it was. I turned around to look into her pleading eyes.
“Fine, I won't tell him, but you have to stop all of this sneaking around. Stop trying to get hunters to turn against, Freya. You must also promise me, that you won't tell the hunters council,” I said in a demanding tone.
She nodded in response, then sighed as she stood up and began to walk out of the room.
“I think you'll find that's mine!”
I snatched my coffee cup out of her thieving little hands, while hurrying past her and towards the door. She muttered something under her breath and I chuckled to myself while I made my way to the back of the cabin and towards the basement where Mason was. When I reached my destination, I stood silently trapped in my own thoughts. While I stared blankly at the basement door, I contemplated what I might see behind it today.
Before Freya was stabbed, the basement was used as a panic room. Damien had soundproofed it and decorated it into a playroom for Amelia and Isaac. Behind the brick walls was thick steel and the door that was so thick, even a tank wouldn't be able to break through it. He wanted to make sure that if we were ever attacked, his children would be safe. There was also a secret room built into the wall, which was stocked with all sorts of supplies. Food, first aid kits, blood bags, water, weapons, that sort of stuff. Then there was a secret passageway that led into some tunnels that went all the way under the cabin, through the woods and into a safe house in the town.
Sadly, since all of this had happened, Mason had to have it converted into a medical room for Freya. He wanted to know that she'd be safe if anything bad happened. He made sure that he had hunters guarding her twenty-four seven and he spent most of his time right by her side. That fateful night when Freya was stabbed, we arrived back at the cabin and was ambushed by Tristan and seven other werewolves. I closed my eyes as the memories of that night flashed through my mind.
“Evan take, Freya inside the cabin. I'll stay out here and deal with these flea-bitten mutts. Take her to doctor Rose, she should be in the medical room. Hurry Evan, I don't know how long, Freya has left!” Mason shouted frantically as he gently placed an unconscious Freya into my arms.
He spoke with such dread in his voice and I could tell that he was struggling to hold back the tears as he feared for his Fianna's life.
“I'm on it, Mase. I'll look after her, I promise.”
I rushed Freya into the cabin and as I entered, I instantly screamed out for doctor Rose,
“Hannah? Hannah? We need some help!” I screamed as I made my way through the dining room and into the medical room.
“Oh, my goodness, Freya. What happened?” She asked while ushering for me to place Freya onto the bed.
“Your daughter stabbed her!” I snapped at her.
I really didn't mean to take it out on her. Freya was her niece and I could tell she had a genuine concern for her, but I just couldn't believe what Carmen had done.
“Carmen!” She spoke in a hushed voice laced with disappointment.
I didn't feel the need to add any more. She needed to concentrate on helping Freya, so I let her know that I was heading back out to assist Mason. Without even looking up at me, she just lifted her hand and gave me a thumbs up. As I left the clinic and walked back through the dining room, I had the opportunity to take in my surroundings. The whole room was filled with wounded hunters. Some had deep lacerations, others had oozing puncture wounds. Most of them were minor though, and were just being disinfected, bandaged up and sent back out to fight.
We couldn’t be turned by a werewolf bite, or scratch. Well, as long as we’d had our hunter’s initiation ceremony that was. We also healed really fast, so unless you were like some of the other poor guys with limbs torn off, then you were patched up and sent on your way. I hurried through the cabin and back towards the front door, making sure to ascend as I exited the cabin. I was ready to kick some hideous werewolf butt. I skidded to a stop and looked around at the scene that was unfolding before me. Mason was levitating in the air. He had his wings and arms spread out, his head tilted back and was screeching into the night's sky. My eyes trailed down towards the floor and instantly fell upon the smoking remains of five chargrilled wolves. They were spread out in a semi-circle beneath Mason.
The only conclusion that I could come to, was that the wolves must have had him surrounded, so he doused them in electrical flames. Some of us hunters were lucky enough to get the extra gift of electrical fire. Mason was the only one I'd ever met, until I saw Freya use it at her eighteenth birthday party. They really were a match made in heaven.
Once Mason had cooled down enough, he lowered himself down to the ground and descended.
“Please tell me that one of those, is a nicely barbeque, Tristan?” I asked with hope in my heart while pointing at the smoldering corpses.
“Nope, the son of a bitch ran away the second my body burst into flames. He jumped into his car with that hippy chick of his and sped off. The coward left his own pack behind to fight his battles for him,” he spat out in frustration.
I put my arm around his shoulder and guided him towards the cabin.
“Don't worry, Mase. We will kill that bastard at some point. Now, let's go and see how your Fianna's doing.”
I kicked on the door twice, then waited for the guards to open it for me. Just like I did every morning for the past two months.
“Morning, Evan,” one of the guards greeted me as he opened the door and stepped out.
He was always so chirpy in the morning.
“Morning Trent,” I replied with a smile and he strolled off into the kitchen whistling to himself.
“Hey, Ev,” the other guard greeted me when he emerged from the basement yawning his head off.
“Hi Brad.”
He glanced over at Trent and shook his head.
“How the hell is he so cheery? I always finish a shift feeling like death warmed up.”
I shrugged while laughing as I watched him drag himself towards the kitchen. I took in a deep breath and prepared myself for my descent into the basement. I was hoping that today would be the day that she woke up, but as I reached the bottom of the stairs, the all too familiar sight greeted me. Freya laid motionless on her bed, while Mason sat asleep in a chair beside her, cradling her hand. I'd tried every way I could think of to convince him to sleep in a proper bed, but no matter what I suggested, he refused. He finished his Fionn work at ten o'clock every night, then came down to Freya and held her hand. He would talk to her all night, until he couldn't talk anymore and eventually, he’d pass out. It was absolutely heart-breaking to watch.
I shook my head to trying to ignore my thoughts and placed the two coffees on the table beside him. While gently touching his shoulder, I tried wake him up.
“Mason? Mason?”
He stirred a little, then jolted up to check on Freya.
“There's no change, Mason. I brought your coffee.”
I hated seeing him wake up like that. He was so full of hope that I was going to tell him, she was finally awake. Sadly, I never had that news to give him. His face grew sad yet empty again, as he replied in an exhausted and scratchy voice,
“Thanks, Evan.”
I walked around the bed and bent over Freya to kiss her forehead.
“Morning, Angel cakes.”
I used to have full conversations with her, but lately, I had been struggling to find anything to say. I pulled up a chair and placed it next to Mason's. We sat there in silence drinking our coffee and watching Freya sleep like an Angel.
“Fionn! We have a problem.”
We both shot our heads around when a panicked Trent and Brad came hurtling into the basement.
“There better be a good fucking reason why you would come barging in here screaming your damn head off like that!” Mason snapped and the guards shrank back at his outrage.
I placed a hand on Mason's shoulder, urging him to calm himself down.
“Go ahead guys,” I said politely and Mason huffed at my politeness.
Lately, he had been ruling with an iron fist. I was trying my best to be peacekeepers, but with him not getting a decent night’s sleep, it had really been taking its toll on him. He was so damn angry and agitated, that all the other hunters felt like they were walking on eggshells. The only one who was able to calm him down or talk any sense into him, was me.
Trent and Brad both tentatively lifted their heads to look at me, their eyes huge with fear. I went to speak, but Mason snapped before I had the chance to say anything,
“Spit it out!” Mason bellowed, making Trent jump.
They both began to stutter, but Brad finally managed to blurt it out,
“Ssss, Sir, Finnley has broken out of his cell. He's killed two guards and escaped into the woods!"