Alone

[Pablo]

Pablo ran, like a bat out of hell. Although ironically he was running away from bats, or more accurately vampires. And also, he wasn't a bat, he was a werewolf. That part of the saying wasn't meant to be taken literally he thought to himself, neither part of the phrase was meant to be taken literally. Could you even get out of hell? The lycan shrugged his head as he galloped through the dense forest on all fours. He was reading into that too much. Though he knew why. His thoughts were just a measly attempt to distract himself from the fact he was carrying Lucan's corpse within his mouth. Lucan his pack brother, dead by his own doing. His hands had spilled pack blood. His hands were were unholy. He froze mid run stumbling through the snow to a halt and hold his paws up to his eyes. Pablo stared at them intensely like they were monstrosities. I should lop these off. Again the lycan visibly shook the thought away.No, you can still make amends. Run. Why was he even running? After hours of not looking back it hadn't occurred to him, the vampires wouldn't give chase during the daylight. They especially wouldn't do so after willingly letting him go. The lycan glanced back from the direction in which he'd come. His paws left tracks in the snow along side a trail of red. Blood, Lucan's blood and - He sniffed the air. His own blood. He was still bleeding from when Lucia had stabbed him. Suddenly his body ached again and he felt light headed, he was running out of his time. His body wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. That was why he was running. To get somewhere safe, so he could recuperate, and then return and give the bats their own hell. Run. Pablo ran.

When was the last time he had slept? He searched his mind. Back when he was still a prisoner in London, that was only a few days ago. It felt like ages. His body was exhausted, but at least the pain he felt had begun to fade again. He felt numb, and wanted nothing more to stop and sleep. He pushed through his fatigue. Running through abandoned campsite and towards the mountain side. He was nearly there, he couldn't stop now.

The forest cleared and a hundred yards ahead Pablo spotted a cave opening in the mountainside. A jolt of energy ran through him. He was safe, he was... no he wouldn't call this place home, but it was the closest he would get to. It meant he no longer had to run, at in a sense that was a home, a place where you had nothing to flee from. The lycan dropped Lucan softly onto the snow by the cave entrance, and shifted back to his human form. "Lucan," He stared at the mangled corpse of his former friend. "Stay." Pablo propped Lucan's body up against the mountain wall and took a step into his new dwelling. He was no stranger to this place. This was a sanctuary, a war bunker just in case something happened to the Den. He never thought he'd be forced to use it as an exile.

The cave was pitch black but his lycan senses made it easy to see. The walls were lined with weapons, knives, rifles, some explosives and day to day equipment. There was a small section of the cave walled off with a makeshift fence; the pantry, stacked with canned goods and bags full of dried meat. In the far end of the cave sat a box full of first aid equipment. Pablo hobbled to it, dropping to his knees and sorting through its contents. After emptying the box of almost everything within he pulled out a large bandage roll and saw to his wound. It wouldn't need to be sewn shut, his lycan healing would see to that, he just needed to stop the bleeding. He wrapped the bandage around his wound and ran a hand through his hair. His forehead was burning hot, that wasn't good. He still needed to bury Lucan. He still needed to make amends.
Ignoring his body's protest he forced himself to stand. He was naked, he noticed after glancing down. Did he even need clothing? He didn't feel cold, but dressing himself seemed imperative. Somewhere around here there should have been some spare clothes, at least a jacket, maybe even pants. Lucan has pants. He thought to himself. But no, Lucan needed them. He probably much colder than he.

Pablo emerged from the cave with a fresh set of pants, another leather jacket, and a shovel. He had found them somewhere, but to be honest he couldn't say where. That wasn't important, burying Lucan was important. Lucan was tired, and needed to rest, they both did. The lycan grabbed his pack brother by the hand and began to drag him into the woods. He only made it about halfway, before collapsing onto the snow from exhaustion. Sleep, this was a good place to rest. It was cool here, and his body felt blazing hot, he was sweating. Lucan could rest later, he had all the time in the world. Closing his eyes he finally succumbed to sleep. In one hand he still held Lucan's tightly, his other extended still gripped around the shovel.

[Pablo]

A warmth caressed his cheek, stirring the lycan awake. The sensation vanished as his eyes opened, replaced by a bone chilling cold and a persistent aching pain across his body. Pablo found himself laying flat down in snow, his chest and face exposed. The lycan was not quite sure where he was or how he had gotten there, but the memory of the past couple days was ever vivid in his mind. His betrayal, he'd attacked Alena and then delivered her to the vampires. Then he'd tried to attack Lucia as retribution, but that had not worked out well. It was there his memory became foggy. Where am I? As he turned his head resting his other cheek against the soft snow he was served a reminder. Lucan ,his face blue and purple, covered in dry blood and guts, a chunk of his skull missing, stared back at him with dead eyes. He flinched, stumbling to his feet and backing away. The snow that had piled on him broke into clumps falling free off his coat. He remembered running towards safety, not in the right state of mind. Though he couldn't quite claim that now. He stood alone, the moon waning, nearly half full shining down on him as he stared at a corpse he had made. There was a shovel by his feet. I was going to bury him. That much was clear. He knelled slowly, his body complaining at ever slight move as he grabbed the shovel. Pablo would finish burying Lucan. The elder lycan deserved more but alas that was something he could not give him.

The night had other plans in mind for Pablo. As he jutted his shovel into the snow to begin digging the wind picked up, quickly building to a roar. Storm clouds moved to cover the moon, leaving the lycan alone again in the dark and without a moments notice snow began to pummel down from the sky. The wind battered against his weakened body. Accepting shoveling would be a fruitless endevar he grabbed Lucan by the arm and trudged back into the cave.

This was the worse day of the lycan's life, he had determined quickly. To be fair there were not many to choose from. The lost of his birth family was a tragedy, though early in his life he was too young at the time to truly understand. It left its mark on the young lycan, but he had not felt the weight of it as his cousin Xhel did. And in comparison, nothing since then seemed too bad. Losing his newly appointed den, and being made a prisoner was the only day that could even compare to what he felt. It though still paled in comparison. Losing Alena, knowing that he delivered her to the enemy was in its own a worse source of gloom. Alena, the woman who had taught him, given him a family, and showed him what it meant to truly live. She who'd charged into London to retrieve him, losing her love in the process. He owed her everything. There was nothing he wouldn't give to have her back, and earn her forgiveness. He wondered if the pack mother ever truly knew how important she was to him. His exile was another source of grief. The knowledge that his pack would never accept him again for actions he couldn't control was over bearing. Worse of all he didn't blame them. He'd never forgive another lycan for spilling pack blood and attacking their Queen. In fact he'd hunt the purpatrator to the ends of the earth. Pablo shuddered at the thought. They were probably doing that, looking for him. He only hoped those closely associated with him; his friends, his squad, were left to be. They'd believe him, he hoped. But seeking them out wasn't an option. At least in London I had Lucia.

Lucia, the fact he still thought of her presence positively was troubling. He should have hated her for any number of things. Imprisoning him, threatening his friends, doing this to him. What ever this was. She'd known, she was acting strangely the night after his interrogation. A night he remembered near to nothing of. She claimed he hadn't said a thing, like she knew he had no memory. Pablo felt a pain deep within his chest. How could she let this happen? Stupid, stupid, stupid. He was a fool for believing Lucia cared about him. But she'd seem so genuine when they'd spoken, and when he held her, he swore he felt the hybrid's soul melt in his arms. They'd shared something, a connection, but no it was all a lie, faked. He still felt... fondly of her, but it made no sense. Frustrated he hurled his shovel across the cave. Why would she let him leave freely? Did she still care or... no. They'd let him go once before, so he could betray Alena. What if this wasn't over? Were they limits to what they did to him? And was that why he felt strongly for her? Yes, that made sense. When he had nothing left there was still reasoning. He couldn't blame himself for what happened. The guilt wasn't his to feel. It was Lucia's, and Dane's.

[Pablo]

Pablo was shaking, but not from the cold. He'd built a fire to deal with that, and was huddled close to it, although the cold never truly bothered him, not since becoming a lycan. He shook from anger, seething at the thought he'd ever trusted Lucia. All of his troubles; losing his Den, betraying Alena, killing Renn and Lucan, they were her fault, and Dane's. It was chance and poor fortune that found him in the cross-hairs of a thousand year old vampire, and Raven's daughter. Their plans involved him, but only because he was there the day Dane attacked Rome. A result of him being named the new den leader. If Geoff had not defected, it would be him huddled in this cave, alone. He was just a pawn to them, it was so obvious now. Why had he not seen it before?

Having someone to blame, did not change the circumstances. The den would never take him back, and Renn and Lucan would forever remain dead. He still felt dismayed. But there was a small comfort, a consolation in having someone to hate. Lucia had to die. The idea wasn't comforting, and he could feel his chest tighten whenever he thought of it. But that was a result of the tampering they had done to his mind. Any affection he felt towards Lucia was fake. He had to remind himself, that Lucia was just as much Raven's child as she was Alena. Raven, a son of Satan, or so Alena had claimed, and who knew better than her? That made Lucia, Satan's grandchild so to speak. She was evil by nature, manipulative, vile. She was not tormented by the weight of immortality, or the beast within, not like her mother. Somehow she had fooled him. Even before they tampered with his mind Pablo had felt fond of her. They'd talked, just the two of them, about life, identity, family. She'd seem so genuine. It was only an act. Raven had fooled Alena, and now his daughter had fooled him. He only hoped Alena would agree with him. Something had to be done about Lucia. She crossed the line when she sided with Dane.

Dane. The thought of the vampire's name sent a shiver down his spine. Dane was a problem, one he couldn't handle alone. He knew that from experience. What hope would he have against Lucia with the vampire about? He needed to save Alena before ending Lucia. Killing the hybrid would forfeit Alena's life. Assuming his Queen still lived. No, she still lives. You would know if she perished. You would feel it. He nodded at his thoughts. But what chance did he have of saving Alena. He tried, and failed miserably, giving into his rage and charging straight at Lucia. His mind was his greatest weapon and he'd abandon it. He should have torn the roof off the building, let the sun do his work for him. Pablo stared into the fire, watching the embers twist and turn before fizzling. There was work to do, this wouldn't be easy. His mind began to race. He had no hope of freeing Alena, he'd need a hundred werewolves to do that. And he knew where to find them in the butt loads. If he could confirm Alena was alive, and then convince the lycans, or even simply a lycan she was still near and could be saved, then maybe they would rally. But he'd have to be careful. They'd tampered with him, he could not forget. What if it was triggered again? There was something meticulous about what they'd done to him. He'd attacked Alena when she was most vulnerable. It was not simply the sight of her that triggered it. It could happen again. He needed a young lycan, an unimportant one the vampires wouldn't know about. Pablo began to nod his head. There were enough lycans to defeat them, even without Alena. Pablo alone had slain dozens. This was possible. They could get Alena back, and even if they didn't forgive him it would be worth it. He would happily leave the pack knowing Alena was free and then he'd .... he'd find Xhel. The thought hadn't dawned upon him before. He never had to be alone, he had Xhel. His cousin would welcome him, hell he'd embrace it. Just the two of us, versus the world. He'd love it. Despite himself, despite everything the lycan found himself smiling slightly. Outside of the cave the wind began to die down.

[Adele Holst]

Bundled up tight, wearing a scarf, two medium-weight jackets, a knit hat and thick leather gloves, Adele trudged through the trees toward the camp site she, Pablo, Damien and Pete had spent a full moon together once a lifetime ago. That night, while not actually that long ago, felt like it had happened years ago. Unlike their camping trip, however, this was not a visit for fun or bonding. There had been whispers on the wind of Pablo's safe return to Sweden, though not much else. Adele had kept her nose to the ground and her ears to the sky after leaving Italy, searching for any trace of her Packmate without making herself noticed and without going back to the Den in Sweden. She couldn't go back to the Den yet; she couldn't face everyone there after what had happened in Rome. Not yet. Upon returning to Scandinavia, however, the young woman heard news that Alena and a group of Werewolves were going to Oslo for one final showdown with the Vampires. She assumed Pablo and Szandor would be among those present. Initially, she felt remorse for not being apart of that team. But any sense of responsibility Adele felt that she should have been with that group seemed to fade as she took each heavy step through the snow. On each footfall, shocks of pain reverberated up from her knees. The biting cold that had not bothered her since becoming a Werewolf now made her bones and joints ache something fierce. As much as she would have loved to tag along with Pablo, Szandor and Alena, she was still recovering from the torment her father had put her through just days ago. Her bones had knitted themselves back together for the most part, though there was the constant pain from where each break had been, and her lungs felt like ice. The back of her arm was still red and regrowing skin from where she'd been flayed. All in all, she was better, thanks to Damien; but it would be some time before she completely healed from the experience.
Admittedly, after hearing that Pablo was likely in Norway, the young woman closed her mind to any further information; she had a feeling that if her friend wasn't in the capital's Den, she would be able to find him at their campsite. She hoped. In the brief moments of doubt, however, the young woman opened her mental link once more, trying to probe for more information. Once over the Norwegian border, though, there was a distinct silence felt from her mental link. If left a bitter taste in her mouth. Something bad had happened, she feared, approaching the place where the four friends had once set up camp. The snow appeared untouched in the vicinity of the campground, but something faint lingered in the air. Closing her eyes, Adele breathed in deeply through her nose, trying to pick up the scent she was searching for; anything, really. Everything was quiet for that moment. For what felt like an eternity, the only sound around was that of the snow falling peacefully down to the gathered snow below. After that moment of intense concentration, picking apart the familiar scents of fresh snow, Spruce trees and Nature's air, Adele could smell it: the smokey undertones of a fire pit, ash subtly floating through the air. And on top of it all, Pablo's familiar scent that always somehow reminded her of Perrin. But this smelled more dire; it was his blood she was picking up. Lots of it. Quickening her pace and bearing through the pain, Adele entered a near sprint, loping through the deep snow toward the smell. As she got closer, she could pick up the light pink traces of blood spilled on the snowy ground.
Please. Don't be dead. You can't be dead. Her thoughts were frantic, running through every possibility of what might have happened. She couldn't lose Pablo now. As she neared the site where his smell was the strongest, Adele picked up the scent of another Lycan, familiar to her, but nameless. She was sweating beneath her arsenal of clothing, pleading to the Gods and whoever else would listen that her friend be alright. In the near distance, she could see a cave. A light seemed to illuminate very softly the entrance, and that's where the blood smelled the strongest. Adele followed her nose, though her mind may have been begging her to stop, lest she see what she feared to be so. Reaching the mouth of the cave, Adele brought a gloved hand up, brushing some of the snow aside, and entering the dimly lit area. "Pablo?" Her voice was surprisingly steady. And there he was; stooped over the campfire inside the cave. He looked pale and weaker than she had ever seen him before; but he was alive. Adele rushed toward him, enclosing him in a tight hug, something she'd rarely done before, "Thank the gods, you're alive."

[Pablo]

He needed to act soon, even if they, Lucia and Dane planned on keeping Alena alive, he knew how brutal a couple days in their care could be. Pablo wouldn't sit around idly, once the pain on his body began to fade he would make his move, but first he needed to bury Lucan. He glanced at the corpse of his fallen comrade. Turning his head was enough to cause his chest to ache, he felt stiff. Had he broken a rib? In his stupor he'd wrapped a bandage around his chest as if he had. The damage done to his body may have been worse than he'd imagine. At least a days worth of rest would be needed before he did anything extraneous. He should have expected that. After his bout in London he hadn't given any time to rest before heading out with Alena.

Glancing back at the fire he caught movement at the corner of his eyes. There was somebody else here, they'd finally come for him. Despite his misdoings, he wouldn't let the pack take him, he couldn't, not while Alena still lived. He'd fight for his freedom and his life. Pablo was about to reach for a weapon when he heard his name spoken by a soft voice. He instantly recognized it as Adele's and sighed. They wouldn't send Adele for him, she didn't have it in her to be one of the lycan's enforcer. That and she would never hurt him, the same way he could never hurt her. The concern for his safety was replaced by concern for the fact he'd been so lost in thought he hadn't noticed her presence till she was but feet away.

"You shouldn't be here." He meant to stand and back away from her, but he moved so slowly Adele had embraced him by the time he staggered to his feet. Initially he eased into her hug, resting his head against her layers of clothes. For a moment the memory of Lucia holding him tightly flashed into his head, and he felt comforted. He wanted nothing more to smile and say the gods had nothing to do with it, and wrap his arms around her. She rarely tried to hold him, he usually would have been ecstatic, but the past day, no the past week had been to put it kindly rough on him. He wanted to lament, and tell her about everything. But then he remembered what he'd done to Alena. He wasn't safe to be around, it could happen again. And though he wished to think Adele wasn't important enough, she still bore Perrin's legacy. Even if she was not quite in tune with her inner beast, she was powerful enough that Pablo would mark her as a target."Let me go." He said harsher than he intended, trying to shake free. It was for her own sake. Breaking from her grasp he tried to push her but instead stumbled backwards. "You shouldn't be here, you're smarter than this. They'll find you guilty just for being near me." He turned away from Adele, finding it difficult to look at her. The guilt he felt suddenly returned. "I had no choice.. I" He struggled to find the right words to explain what'd happen. "They did something to me. I would never hurt Alena, you know that."

[Adele Holst]

The tone of his voice did not go unnoticed by the young woman, nor did his attempts to wriggle out of her grasp. She let go of the hug, all too familiar with the desire to not be touched; but this seemed off, unlike Pablo. At first she thought it was something she'd done and for a moment her heart ached, "Pablo, I'm so sorry we weren't there for you when you needed us. We're Pack, you shouldn't have been alone..." Yet as the man stammered something about being found guilty and hurting Alena, Adele stopped talking. What was he going on about? Something wasn't right.
Taking a moment to look around the camp, it was clear this place had been kept fortified for one reason or another. On the ground nearby lay the unmoving remains of another Lycan who Adele had surely met before, but could barely even recognize at the moment. She didn't even realize she was biting her lip until she tasted blood, and it dawned on her that she was staring at the wound near Pablo's collar, along his shoulder. "What happened?" She tried to move closer to inspect his wound, but prepared herself to be brushed off once more. "Why are you alone with...?" She motioned to the corpse. "Where are Alena and Szandor? Of course I know you would never hurt the Pack Mother; you love her as you would a Sire." This didn't make sense; Adele felt edgy, what was he hiding? They'd been close friends for almost a decade now, Pablo was the first person she really met at the Den, other than Alena. They'd told each other all sorts of crazy stuff before. Why was he trying to push her away now?

[Pablo]

She was right, he should not have been left alone. Even a night ago he still resented them for it, but he'd come to realize it was a blessing in disguise. Dane would have probably killed them, leaving at least one alive. It wouldn't have mattered which. "I don't care about that." As she was silent for a moment, Pablo simply stared at the ground, trying to sort through his thoughts. His ears perked as she stepped closer to him, he turned quickly to face her, and stumbled backwards again. "Stay away from me." He snapped, his voice again harsh. Suddenly he felt very aware of the wound by his shoulder, and felt a need to hide it underneath his hand.

Pablo eyed her curiously. "Szandor?" Why was she asking about him? Suddenly it dawned upon the young man. "You don't know... about any of this?" He felt a sudden weight on his shoulders bogging him down. Szandor was dead, and Alena was in the hands of the enemy. He knew this, but had not felt the weight of it all. The situation was dire, and she had no idea. Why did he have to explain this to her, now out of all times? She should have known."Adele, Szandor died in London, rescuing me and... " This was all new to her, he let the revelation sink in for the moment. Where had she been? "I'll tell you everything." He pointed towards the other side of the fire, by the cave's entrance. "just stand back," Pleading he spoke softer. "Please."

[Adele Holst]

"Stay away from me."
Adele retracted her gloved hand quickly, wounded by the harshness of his words more than she could say. "I..." Looking down, the young woman stopped herself from trying to justify her concern. She shouldn't have to, but she felt he didn't understand. When she brought her eyes back up to her old friend, there were tears in her eyes. She'd been so worried that he'd been killed somehow; afraid that the only other Lycan she truly considered family, in the good sense, had been taken violently away. After the hell Adele went through the last couple of days, finding out her best friend had been killed and that she'd have to bury him too would have been too much. Finding him alive had made her the happiest she'd been since before Geoff defected. Yet he seemed more irritated at her presence than anything. "Please don't push me away." Her plea came out as little more than a whisper, and she clenched her fists as tight as the gloves would allow.
"No, I don't know what happened. What's wrong? I---" It felt like Adele was punched in the stomach when Pablo told her of Szandor's fate. The air seemed to leave her lungs forcefully, and she doubled over, bringing a hand up to her mouth. She suddenly felt warm and dizzy. "Szandor...? Dead..." Sitting where she was on the cold ground, Adele began peeling off the gloves, hat, scarf and one of the jackets. Her skin was paler than usual, and there were dark circles under her eyes from the previous day's events. Shaking slightly, she rolled up her sleeves subconsciously to cool off; deep bruises were just beginning to fade around her wrists. But none of it mattered anymore. Pablo wouldn't lie to her about something like this. Szandor had been killed. The Lycan who'd sought her out and saved her from Vampires on the day after her first transformation. He'd been more of a mentor to Adele than Alena, or pretty much anyone else had since becoming a Werewolf; he'd also cleaned up a few of her messes in her first few years. She looked up to him as being as strong as Alena, and in Adele's mind, Alena was pretty much invincible. What the hell happened?
Looking up at Pablo, she had no words. When he asked her to stand back, she scooted herself sadly away, closer to the entrance to the cave, huddled close to the fire.

[Pablo]

The news hit Adele hard, Pablo couldn't bear to look at her in her state. Any other moment or time in his life he would have been by her side to comfort her. He knew how important Szandor was to his friend, he was important to all them, but Szandor had been there for Adele since her first days as a lycan. Even before she'd met Pablo. "I'm sorry..." His words felt empty, she needed he a friend at the moment, but he couldn't quite be that. She would understood once he explained, he was sure of it. "I'm not safe to be around, Adele, they did something to me." Pablo his back to the cave wall slid to the ground, tucking his knees underneath his chin. "I can't remember what, I wish I could." He said frustrated, running a hand through his hair. How to word this? Part of him wanted to simply point at the corpse and say he was responsible for that. Then she'd understand the gravity of the situation. He could never kill another lycan, unless they were branded as traitors." Lucia and Dane, they let me escape. I was just happy to be free, Alena was too blinded by vengeance. We should have known something was wrong." He paused, it was time to cut straight to the point. Saying it aloud felt impossible, like he was admitting to a crime. The fact he didn't head straight back to the den could be seen as a confession to his guilt on it's own. "On our way to Oslo, I hurt her, badly. I tried to warn her, to stop myself, but I had no control. I felt like a prisoner in my own body. I shot Lucan, I shot Renn, and then I brought Alena to them. She was bleeding, I nearly killed her, and then..." The thought alone made his wound flare up in pain. He grimaced a ran his hand towards it again. "They let me leave. It's going to happen again, I know it is. You can't stay her. It's not safe." He turned to her, flinching as his eyes settled on her own bruises. What had happen to her? The past few days weren't easy on her either, clearly. "Who hurt you?

[Adele Holst]

Sitting by the fire, Adele brought trembling hands up to her hairline. She felt sick to her stomach; she was still trying to wrap her mind around the idea that Szandor was gone when Pablo spoke again. Looking at him through the flames she stopped her thoughts, listening to everything he was trying to tell her. He did not look well at all, dealing with everything first hand had taken its toll on the young Lycan who was known for his happy-go-lucky attitude toward life. She wasn't sure what was more distressing, seeing Pablo like this, hurt and confused, or the news that something had been done to him. Clearly something had been done to him; Adele didn't quite comprehend the whole situation until her friend went on to explain. "What?" She didn't want to believe it; Pablo would never hurt a Packmate, and certainly never Alena. But the way he told her, the emotion in his voice; he wasn't just saying this, he'd actually done this. "Alena is with the Vampires? And Szandor is dead."
Wiping at her eyes with the palm of her hand, the young woman wanted to go over to Pablo and reassure him that nothing else bad could happen. I mean, the most important Werewolves had been taken out of the picture now, she thought cynically. There was still Geoff... And the fact that Perrin had passed his powers to her in his bite. But she couldn't be a threat, could she?
Biting her lip, Adele tried to help, grasping at straws, "I-is it a chip or something? They mess with your brain somehow? I don't understand..." Shaking her head, the young woman realized those comments weren't helping. "We can fix this... Somehow. There has to be a way. We..." The next thoughts that popped in her head felt too silly to repeat, but they were all she had. "We need to rally the Wolves. Make Dane and Lucia tell us what they did to you. And if all else fails, we simply kill them and get Alena back." She felt like a madwoman, it would never work, but she couldn't stand to see Pablo like this.
His concern for her did not go unnoticed, although Adele wanted nothing more than to avoid the subject. There was too much respect for Pablo to just blow off his inquiry. She couldn't meet his eyes, "My father. I thought he was dead. I thought that I had killed him; but I passed on the Lycan trait to him. He found me in Rome." Closing her eyes, she saw the cooler again, the slabs of meat and dangling carcasses all around. It was enough the she could still recall the smell just by visualizing the place, she she gagged a little. "He's dead now. For good."