Fic: See You in the Dark | Part 1 of 3
For: KradamBigBang
Title: See You in the Dark
Author: bubby_wubby
Artist: banbury
Type: AU
Word Count: approx. 22,000
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Kris Allen | Adam Lambert
Warnings Strong language | violence
Summary: In this alternate universe, werewolves live among humans in relative peace. Neither Kris nor Adam are werewolves, but they are part of an elite government team that hunts down dangerous rogue werewolves. They make cities a safer place to live; however, being assigned to the same task force proves to be a problem since a past miscommunication has torn them apart.
Link to art master post: Over here
Thank you to: Who else…the awesome anobakitay and my Ernie pennilesspoet17 for reading through all my stuff, good, bad and ugly. To banbury, it was a pleasure working with you on this.
A/N: This is something I’ve never done before, both genre- and style-wise. The story is based on various songs from the band 30 Seconds to Mars, each chapter title is a song and fits a ~theme as I interpreted them.
Disclaimer: This is not true. This obviously did not happen. Final mistakes are mine, and mine alone.
One shot on DW
~*~*~*~*~
Five years ago
A Beautiful Lie
Temecula | Lake Skinner
Mosquitoes buzzed around Adam’s head as he tried to slap them away with little success. The annoying high-pitched drone of insects clashed with the sounds of the rushing water from the reservoir and other night creatures around the makeshift cabins on the campgrounds. The sun had just set a few minutes ago casting the area in a soft glow. After dinner, all the campers dispersed into their own corners to rest, chat or have a few minutes alone before the midnight training sessions began.
The camp leaders, dressed in black fatigues, were sitting around the fire, shuffling paperwork amongst themselves, prepping for the upcoming drills. Fresh-faced teenagers dragged boxes to a corner of the cleared area, stacking them against wood tables and folding chairs.
Adam looked around and quietly made his way to cabin five, its windows wide open, cheap sheets flowing back and forth with the occasional breeze. The interior was lit softly with giant citronella candles and gas-powered lanterns that were stacked along the shelves by the windows and doors to keep bugs away. The bug zapper snapped and crackled as an errant insect blindingly flew into the bright light.
As he stepped onto the rickety landing by the front door, laughter floated out from the windows. Curiosity won over manners as Adam dropped his hand from knocking and instead slinked his way around to the side of the cabin to eavesdrop.
The soft clicks and snaps of guns being cleaned and reassembled broke through the casual conversation about potential location assignments. Adam smiled and was about to move when he heard the question that froze him to his spot.
“What’s the deal between you and Lambert anyway?” a voice asked. Adam couldn’t properly place who it was, as the occupants were talking in low tones.
“Nothing, man. Why do you think there would be?”
That voice Adam knew. Kris Allen.
“You two seem, I don’t know, close.”
Kris chuckled, “We’re all close and competitive here. Not any different than you and Campbell or Cale and Toshi.”
Ah, the other man was Cooper. Adam sunk lower into the shadows, knowing this was something he shouldn’t be listening to, but couldn’t help anyway.
“Naw, man. It’s different between you two. I mean, he’s close to Desai, but you can see the genuine friendship there. You two, I don’t know, it’s like you’re good friends, but there’s an underlying…something…it’s weird.”
“Like how?” Kris asked. “What’s weird?”
Adam heard the thread of annoyance creep into Kris’s voice.
“I gotta know, you getting some on the down-low, dude?” Cooper asked. “No big deal, cuz I know all this testosterone is driving us crazy, and you four guys have been training together for a while now. I don’t know, it’s like, kind of like prison, right? You get what you can when you can? And who can blame you? Lambert’s prettier than some women I know.”
Kris laughed, “What if I am? It’s no big deal. Stress relief, you know?”
“Damn, dude,” Cooper whistled. “And?”
“And, nothing, man,” Kris answered nonchalantly. “Sometimes you gotta make exceptions to get what you need. And if he’s willing and able? Shit, man, I’m not gonna complain.”
“Is it weird? He’s hung like a horse.”
“It’s alright. He gets me off, I get him off, mutual release, right? Can’t be going around these training sessions all horny and shit, it’ll get you in trouble if you’re distracted like that. Need your senses on high-alert all the time.”
Adam’s stomach dropped. It felt like it was filled with molten lead, heavy and solid, yet churning and ready to crawl up his insides and punch its way out. He found himself unable to breathe, as his throat bubbled up with cries of anguish and shouts of pain and threats of anger, none of which he let out. Putting up a shaking hand, his body quaked from what he just overheard. He ran off into the sparse woods hundreds of yards away from the cabins and finally heaved out his dinner. Coughing up the last of the vomit, bile and spit from his stomach, he staggered to the small stream to rinse out his mouth.
Three years ago
Attack
Dockweiler Beach | Pit 17
The acrid smell of burning fur and flesh filled the air, almost overpowering the perpetual stench of dried, decaying seaweed, rotted food, airplane fuel and un-bathed bodies that normally permeated this part of the beach. The roaring of plane engines covered the sounds of the fight happening along the edge of the water and sand. The sparks and crackles of the bonfire created a supporting soundtrack to the thuds of flesh pounding on flesh, grunts and growls.
Large corrugated cardboard pieces made up temporary walls to block off a wide area of the battle. Lines that had been drawn around in the sand had long disappeared as flecks of dirt and fur flew up and out; spectators remained standing stoically in a semi-circle, watching the fight intensely.
The hostile bodies behind the giant fire pit created an amalgamation of warriors moving to an ancient ritual, their shadows creating a wicked dance. Two creatures clawed, snapped and bit at each other. Growls and howls of pain echoed into the night air, spittle and dark blood flew around landing in the fire creating sizzles as the shapes born of nightmares tore into each other. These living things that were half human and half wolf, with patches of hair and enormous arms that extended into huge paws with jagged claws attacked each other with frenzy. Faces stretched and elongated into muzzles, distorting human faces into animals with jaws full of sharp teeth.
With a lunge, the black and silver furred werewolf tackled the dark brown one and bit down into its shoulder. A screech reverberated into the air.
“Submit,” the black and silver creature snarled as it raised its head, blood and skin stuck to its teeth.
“Fuck. You.” The brown-furred one grunted out, spitting out broken teeth and blood-stained saliva.
Another bite before the brown werewolf used its legs to push the smaller black and silver one off its body, but before the black and silver creature could be tossed away, its jaw gripped tighter and tore a chunk of muscle. A roar permeated the air as the black and silver werewolf spit the flesh into the fire pit and used the momentum to move its arm in a giant arc to swipe the larger wolf’s body. The hard-edged claws sliced through flesh and muscle until pale white bone was exposed, making the brown one buckle to its knees in pain.
The brown one lowered its head, waiting for the death strike.
“Leave my territory!” the black and silver one bellowed standing tall. “I am the Alpha of this pack. Your sick deviations have no place here. I will show you mercy and allow you to leave this one time.” With a final strike across its face and torso, the silver and black one howled, announcing to the world his victory. “You show up again, and there will be death,” it growled.
Two smaller creatures scurried to the brown one’s aide, picking it up and dragging it away, mocking howls following them in their wake.
“You’ll pay for this you fucking bastard,” the brown one whispered. He spit out blood one final time before disappearing into the dark, collapsing into the arms of his friends.
**
Robert Lucas stood in front of the room to address everyone. He was a tall, imposing man, hair gray, face unlined, body still heavily muscled and straight back belying his age. However, as he situated himself, people could see his bruised face, lips and eyes swollen, his left arm was in a sling and he had walked into the large meeting room with a noticeable limp.
Despite his battered appearance, his black suit stark against the fluorescent lights, he remained upright, power emanating from his body, causing ripples of discomfort to the wolves in the room. The humans simply felt uneasiness and sudden anxiety, like walking past a dark alleyway at two in the morning and wanting to get out of the area and head into the other direction as soon as possible.
“It is done,” he declared simply, his voice carrying the across the room with no microphone. “The PacificSun pack is clear of the lesion that has caused such dissension in the pack for many years. For as long as I’m Alpha of this pack, I will not allow behavior that will cause conflict and discord or harm our fellow brethren, human or wolf. We are and will continue to be civilized beings.”
He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of every single creature, making sure he was understood. There would be no more bloodshed.
“Challenges will not go unheeded. If you have a problem, we will discuss it. If you don’t agree with the way that I rule, you are welcome to leave without bloodshed. But do not think that I will allow evil to grow and fester in this pack,” he growled. “Rogues have no place here.” With that, he left the room.
The five men in suits who stood aside in the dark nodded. They gave a discrete signal to the line of soldiers, two of the wolf lieutenants nodded back. With the acknowledgement, the five men silently left the room.
Present Day
From Yesterday
Venice, CA | Cracker’s Gym
“Ooomph,” Adam grunted out as Anoop landed a kick to his solar plexus.
“Come on Lambert, stop being a pussy!” Anoop taunted. He took a step back and crouched low, hands out, readying himself for the counter-attack. “You’re losing your touch if I got that kick in.”
They had been in the gym, grappling for the last 30 minutes.
“Fucker,” Adam growled as he bounced on his feet. He feigned left with his arms, then twisted to the right and landed a blow on Anoop’s back, right under the shoulder blade, making him fall onto the mat with a loud thump. Adam placed a knee on Anoop’s back and tugged his arm back, slight, but with enough pull that if they were in a real situation, Adam would’ve dislocated his shoulder.
Anoop laughed and pounded his free hand onto the mat three times, “I give.” He laughed again, “I give asshole! Get off me.” He rolled over onto his back the second Adam released him. He breathed out, “Jackass.”
Adam yanked two towels from the empty chair in the corner. Throwing one to him, “What? You’re losing your touch, Desai.”
Anoop huffed out a chuckle, “I’ve always been the brains; you’ve been the looks with a touch of muscle.”
“A ‘touch’ of muscle?” Adam snorted. “Right,” Adam grunted as he leaned over to the cooler on the floor. “Water or the vitamin shit?”
“The vitamin shit,” Anoop said, sitting up. He gave Adam a considering look as he caught the bottle thrown at him.
“What?”
Anoop slowly uncapped the bottle and shrugged, “Nothing, man.”
“What was that look for?”
“You’ve been…I don’t know…forget it.”
Adam scowled and padded back over to the mats where Anoop was sitting. Plopping down next to him, he nudged his shoulder, “I’ve been what? Tell me.”
Anoop sighed, “It’s May.”
“So?”
Shaking his head, “You never talked about it. I mean, there were pieces here and there…” Anoop felt Adam’s body stiffen next to him, but he continued. “You just…I just…” he stopped. “You know what? Never mind, just over-thinking things like I normally do,” Anoop said standing up. He held out a hand, “Come on. Showers, then dinner. We’re supposed to meet the guys at Hole in the Wall.”
Adam slumped for a second, then grabbed Anoop’s hand, “Yeah, let’s go.”
Night of the Hunter
Downtown Los Angeles | Garment District
The blood-curdling screams tore through the streets, echoing off the buildings, making even the nocturnal creatures scurry away deeper into the shadows with fear. Windows slammed shut and all forms of light were turned off as people hid away from the malevolent presence outside their homes. The sounds went away in the only way violent death could extinguish, with sudden and abrupt silence.
The heavy fall of running footsteps pounded solidly on wet sidewalks, spraying jets of dirty water outward. Thumps of boots, rattles of metal on metal and the clatter of weapons being drawn jumbled together as the smell of burnt rubber and shrieks from tires reverberated down the streets. The jarring bursts of static from walkie-talkies and muffled the sounds of fervent orders bounced from the ground and disappeared into the darkened sky. The scent of fear and the air of pain wafted through the alleyways, leaving a visceral trail.
Giant figures in black stalked the grounds, the arsenal on and around their bodies shining off the dim streetlamps and reflected back from damp patches onto the streets of the full moon. The black sky opened its arms to showcase the yellowed moon, as wisps of clouds floated away having done their job of darkening the city. The Los Angeles night sky finally won its battle against the nightmare demons to become the City of Angels again, only several hours too late.
A deep rumble blasted through the walkie-talkies, “Found them. Three bodies on St. Julian and Seventh, alleyway halfway down on the east side of the street. Called it in, send in the clean up team. The rest of you head on back, those on patrol, keep going. We need to find these freaks.”
Voices chimed back, acknowledging the location and commands. The men gathered in groups, grips still strong on their weapons as they jumped into black vans and made their way to the bodies. Frantic calls were made to the coroner’s office, police station, various forensic teams and headquarters, the environment filled with anxiety as they descended onto the blackened back alley.
The air was thick with death, congealed blood sticking to the bottoms of chunky rubber-soled boots. Clicks from weapons being reloaded and put away resonated against the brick buildings, hiding the occasional sound of dry heaves and vomiting.
“Fuckin’ rookies,” someone mumbled.
The three bodies were laid out like boneless rag dolls, their insides spilling out like a waterfall of thick, shiny yarn. Unseeing eyes were glassy and muted with blood, staring out at the graffiti across from them, arms and legs splayed out like puppets whose master had cut the strings. Streaks of dried blood mixed in with lumps of dried out cement, weeds and dirt that decorated the alley, which was now filled with bright lights of the vans and flashlights; the story of their brutal casualties exposed in sticky, black patterns on the ground.
“Christ, the smell,” another voice grumbled. “I’ll never get used to that.”
“Vapo-Rub right above your lip, dude.”
“Mix Vasoline with eucalyptus or rose oil,” another chimed in.
Howls reverberated against the night sky, ricocheting from the ground and dissipating into the darkness, the wail and yowling of it sounding almost like laughter.
**
Anoop was typing furiously into the keypad, locking into the various CCTV cameras in the area trying to get a lock-down on images of what happened. “Time?” he asked.
Adam was checking coordinates from his phone and a hand-held tablet, “Looks like 20 minutes ago.” He slammed his hand on console inside the van, “We just missed it. Fuck.”
“These cameras are shit.”
“The building owners don’t care,” Adam grunted out. “We’re lucky they were even working.”
“The city cameras are no better, but at least the resolution is there,” Anoop said absentmindedly, typing and glancing up at the six small screens in front on him. He pointed to one of the monitors, “There, in the shadows, looks like five of ‘em. That means I’m not crazy.”
“Of course you’re not crazy, you got more than the rest of the useless BPI asswipes,” Adam scolded.
“I hope there’s more forensic evidence this time, as much as I hate not getting here in time, at least they seem to be getting sloppier.”
“We’ll get them, Anoop.”
The Battle of One
Santa Monica | G-Man’s Watering Hole
“Tough night?” Matt asked, his trusty fedora cocked sideways on his head.
Adam slouched down and face-planted into the sticky bar top, black hair falling off to the side, his forehead barely making it to the pile of scrunched up napkins. “You have no idea,” he mumbled.
Matt laughed and placed another glass next to Adam’s face, “Here, last call. Drink up and let me know if you need a ride back to your place.”
“Thanks, Matt, but I think I’ll be okay.” Adam lifted his head and swatted at a stray napkin stuck on his face. “How are the rest of my guys?”
Taking away the empty glasses, Matt looked over at the huddle of men nursing drinks, “Most of them seem like they’re hanging on, but you might have to make a call to help them home.”
Adam nodded and rubbed at his forehead, wiping at the stray bits of paper stuck on his skin. After slapping his fingers free of paper, he took the extra limes Matt placed on a small plate and squeezed them into the glass, “Yeah, I’ll have them bring a couple vans around.”
“How bad was it?” Matt asked quietly.
Adam shook his head and closed his eyes. The vision was imprinted on him, as was every other body they found in the last three months. The attacks were getting worse, getting more gruesome as time went by.
“It was ugly, Matt,” Adam said tersely. “Three tonight.”
“Shit,” Matt whistled. He placed a hand on Adam’s arm, “I’m sorry.”
Adam sighed, “Thanks. It’s all so random, we can’t pinpoint anything.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.”
“What’s Anoop saying about the attacks?”
“No identification of the bodies yet, but three women,” Adam answered as he rubbed his eyes with his thumbs. “And, fuck it all, but there’ve been no discernible pattern behind the attacks. The only common factor has been dark alleyways near abandoned buildings. A mix of male and female, no ethnic or sexual archetypes, so there’s nothing there. We’re talking with the various pack leaders, but they’re at a loss, too. For some reason, they don’t know a thing about these rogues, so can’t even begin to contain them. All I know is that they’re fucking pissed off about this, let me tell you.”
“More than us?”
“Yeah, because this fucks things up for them, too. It’s been good for them the last five years since the treaty’s been in place, and things have been peaceful.” Adam stopped to take a large gulp and grimaced as the vodka slid down his throat. “They’re insisting it’s not members of their respective packs, but rogues from other territories. And, of course, the other territory pack leaders are pissed off at the accusations; which isn’t making things easier. The best guess is that these fucking rogues probably got kicked out of their packs or have it in for the PacificSun Pack as a whole. I mean, we have full cooperation from the PacSun Alpha, but…”
“Are you hearing anything from the groups San Francisco, Ashland or Kirkland?”
“No. Looks like it’s staying in the LA area, which is both good and bad. I don’t think we could handle it if this was happening up and down the coast, much less Orange County, San Diego or the desert. Everyone’s been warned to be extra cautious. Robert, the PacSun Alpha is fucking pissed beyond belief. His credibility and leadership skills are being questioned up and down the coast since it’s his territory.”
They let the silence fall.
Clearing his throat, Matt finally asked, “You want me to make the call for the vans?”
Adam lifted his head and knocked back the rest of liquid in his glass, “No, I’ll make the call now.”
“Be careful.”
“You, too, Matt,” Adam said as he dropped some bills onto the bar. “Thanks for the drinks and the ear.”
This is War
East Los Angeles | Huntington Park
The dank warehouse smelled of blood, urine and sweat, but none of the occupants seemed to notice or care. Dirty mattresses with rusted springs lined one end of the cement floor, frayed bits of peeling yellowed paint lined the walls in thick splotches. Bits of fur and bones were shoved into a corner, creating a nauseating-looking nest where two corpses with dried up skin and protruding bones were curled as if trying to hide from the nastiness of the windowless room.
Kevin Burton yawned and stretched his giant body, bones cracking and popping with each twist as he eased himself off a ratty couch. He looked around and saw his two friends sprawled out on sleeping bags near the giant metal door, oblivious to the radio alarm going off. Five other members of his makeshift pack were splayed out on the mattresses in a corner, unconscious and ignorant of the fact that it was mid-afternoon.
…and LAPD has issued a city-wide warning for residents to stay indoors as much as possible. Though the Bureau of Paranormal Investigations is the heading the taskforce for any clues leading to the…
Kevin slammed the radio off. He already knew what the BPI and LAPD were doing…a big fat load of nothing. He grinned at the thought. He, Billy, Skeetch and the rest of his crew had a giant city with a population of nine million cowering in fear and wetting themselves daily. And, the fuckheads of the PacSun pack couldn’t do jack-shit to stop them. He’d stop the carnage once he took over the territory; he’d demand the pack and their acquiescence, as well as complete leadership privileges in exchange. Well, maybe not completely stop the bloodshed, after all, humans needed fear as a motivator; but those were minor quibbles that he’d deal with once he became Alpha.
Reaching down, he grabbed two empty soda cans and threw them at Skeetch and Billy. If he was awake, they needed to be up, too. There was more planning to do, and as he sniffed the air and himself, he wrinkled his nose. Yeah, they needed to find new digs. The future Alpha shouldn’t be living in a shithole or acting like a degenerate. His mother used to tell him every day to live like he was meant to live-a king-and he’d do that, starting today.
As Kevin scratched his head and armpit, absently patting the scars on his shoulder as he thought of what needed to be done. It was going to be a couple of busy days trying to ingratiate themselves into the human world. Kevin shuddered at the thought, but in order to execute his plan to take over the pack, he could suck it up for a little bit.
They would check into a hotel for a few days and get cleaned up. Then, while he shopped for proper attire, Billy would find them a nice place to live and Skeetch would get them a set of wheels. The other guys could do some location scouting for their next attack. It was all coming together. Too bad he had to wait this long, but funds were a bit on the short side when the plan was first hatched. After rampaging through Nevada and New Mexico, they now had enough cash to live a little until he could set up a proper meeting with that pussy Robert, current Alpha of the PacSun pack.
He stood up and stretched his body, bones creaking from the uncomfortable futon. He kicked it, saying good-riddance to it in his head. The three whores were nasty feeding last night, their blood tainted with alcohol and drugs. He grimaced as he thought back to skin that had been weathered by hard living and not enough care, lack of muscle from not enough food. Running his hand over his belly, his grimace turned into a grin as he relived the chase that took place once the whores realized that they meant to kill.
Last night was enough to keep them sated for a few days. Plus, he needed to make sure there was no logical pattern for LAPD or the BPI to decipher. That wouldn’t be fun, would it?
Hunter
Santa Monica | Water Gardens Office Complex
The peacefulness of the fountains in the courtyard and the sunny blue skies belied the fact that one of the scariest and most intimidating arms of the government had offices, dorms, storage and training facilities among the technology firms and Hollywood production houses in the serene business park. All the buildings had green tinted glass windows that deftly deflected the bright rays of the sun and mirrored fluffy clouds as light ocean breezes moved them eastward. The giant oaks provided patches of shade on the carefully manicured grass and beds of colorful flowers.
The peaceful exterior of the office complex had nothing on the walking embodiment of calm that was Michael Sarver. Mike was a big man, an imposing man, his giant body taut with muscles that overshadowed most of the people that worked for and with him. The hard surface belied the soft-heart inside and the smiling blue eyes. As the director of the Bureau of Paranormal Investigations, Mike’s job was to ensure Southern California’s paranormal citizens behaved themselves. They handled situations that local police departments couldn’t take care of, or didn’t want to.
This morning, his eyes were hard and had bags under them, the easy smile was nowhere to be found on his face. “Lambert!” he shouted from his door. “You and Desai, in my office now.”
Adam looked up from his paperwork and glanced over at Anoop, who was typing furiously on his keyboard. Shoulders slumped, but with a final tap, Anoop scooted his chair back and stopped at Adam’s desk, “Come on, Big Mike’s in a mood.”
“Know what this is about?” Adam asked as he pulled on his shirt sleeves.
“If it’s what I think it is, then we’re not going to be happy,” Anoop mumbled. “Actually, more like you won’t be happy.”
Adam eyed his friend, not sure of what to make of the vague statement. They made their way up the small set of stairs that separated the main “pit” of agents’ desks to the “executive” level where most of the management and top administrators, including Mike’s office, conference rooms and the Bureau Chief’s office, were located.
Walking up the worn gray carpet quickly, Adam choked back a sound when he saw three figures in the adjoining meeting room to Mike’s office. Anoop snapped his head in Adam’s direction when he, too, saw the men.
“Shit,” Adam whispered.
“You gonna be okay?”
Adam nodded as they entered the room.
Mike stood up from his chair to greet them, face hard, silently telling Adam and Anoop both to remain quiet and not argue.
“Gentlemen, these are our two senior agents, Adam Lambert and Anoop Desai,” Mike announced. He pointed to two empty chairs as he went around to the head of the table. “Lambert, Desai, this is Director Dave Caldwell from the Southeast region and his top agents Kris Allen and Cale Mills.”
Kris leaned back in his chair and smirked, “Adam, Anoop.” He gave them a mocking salute before crossing his arms again.
Director Caldwell quickly masked the surprise on his face, “Agent Allen, you know these men?”
Kris smiled as Mike quickly answered, “I believe the four of them went through training together in Plano, Silver Springs and Temecula. They were the top of their recruiting class. Lambert and Desai had assignments in Seattle, Reno and settled with us here in LA. Mills and Allen were shipped to Virginia Beach, Kansas City, and ended up in Atlanta.”
Cale glanced up from his coffee mug and shot a soft smile at Adam and Anoop, but quickly looked back down. Anoop quirked his mouth to acknowledge him and took his seat, while Adam scowled before sitting down.
Ignoring the group, Mike went to the end of the table where a giant flat-screen display hung on the wall next to two smaller ones on each side. He flicked them all on and motioned for the lights to be dimmed.
“Agents Mills and Allen have been temporarily re-assigned to help us out for the duration of this case,” Mike announced. “As you know, they’ve had great success in upstate New York in capturing the rogue gang responsible for 17 murders, both human and wolf, as well as putting a lid on the uprisings in St. Louis and Memphis, all in the last year.”
Adam rolled his eyes and shook his head. As he glanced around the table, he found Kris staring at him. Averting his gaze, Adam turned his attention back at Big Mike.
“…the Southeast office has been generous enough to transfer Agents Mills and Allen to help us because this situation has officially spiraled out of control,” Mike was saying. He grabbed the remote and to start the slide show of images. “There’s no conspicuous pattern that we’ve come across. Anoop and his team have been working tirelessly trying to come up with a profile of these werewolf rogues.”
He looked to Anoop and nodded. Anoop stood up and took his place next to Mike. He pointed to the folders at the end of the table.
“In those folders is as much information as we’ve been able to put together,” Anoop stated. He pointed to the screen as it changed to the next image. “After the mess three nights ago, we’re up to 12 bodies, all human. We now know there are a minimum of five rogues, all male, from the hair, fiber and teeth marks left behind on the bodies. We’re guessing there are more and that they’re breaking up the kills to keep us off track. The previous kills were single and double bodies, so it was hard to separate out what little was left behind and pinpoint anything.”
Adam leaned over and grabbed the folders to pass them down table. He knew what was in the report, but with nothing else to do, he flipped through the papers and photos to keep himself occupied, but mostly to keep himself from looking over at Kris.
**
Kris kept his body and face towards the front of the room, but his eyes were focused on Adam. From the moment Adam walked into the conference room, Kris’s body was on full alert, memories assaulting him. His fingers gripped the pads of the arms of the chair, and he closed his eyes for a second to center himself and concentrate on the conversation going on around him.
When Dave Caldwell called Cale and Kris into his office, they had just come back from Buffalo. Kris didn’t even think twice about the opportunity to go to California, wanting to get the chill of sub-zero weather that had settled in him out of his bones. It didn’t matter that it would be LA’s rainy season; it would still be warmer than where he had just spent three ass-freezing months. Only after Cale pulled him aside and double-checked did he realize LA would be where Adam was.
Now, he wasn’t sure if agreeing to this mission was a good idea. Adam barely looked at him, and when he did, for all of two seconds, it was with a scowl. Five years had been an eternity, and he still wasn’t able to figure out what happened in Temecula. He dissected all his movements, his language, analyzed every detail of those last couple weeks with Cale, and he had no answers as to why Adam shut him out and left with the first caravan to parts unknown in the middle of the night.
Of course Kris knew that one of the missions was set to leave the minute training was over and with no word on where the final location would be, but he hadn’t expected Adam to be on that team. They had mutually agreed to sign up for the San Francisco assignment, the four of them together, as they had been from the start. Temecula was the last of the training sessions, the most highly recruited soldiers in the country. And they were supposed to go through this together, as a team, the dream team.
Only Adam had volunteered alone and left the three of them behind.
Anoop was assigned out two days later, but his face and body language revealed nothing. All he told Kris and Cale was that he’d be joining Adam. No matter how much Kris begged for information, Anoop gave him the cold shoulder. He knew what happened, Kris was sure of it, yet he wouldn’t tell him anything.
Since then, Kris threw himself into his work. He took his frustration out on each mission, making sure his wrath and aggression were felt on every single rogue werewolf. With every kill, he knew that his name would be talked about, accommodations and awards with his name passed along inside the Bureau, and Adam wouldn’t be able to get away from him-okay, his name-not as long as they were both with the agency. And Adam was still very much entrenched in the agency.
He didn’t realize it when he first took the assignment, but since he landed at LAX two days ago, Kris decided he was going to make it his mission to find out what happened, why Adam ended it the way he did. If nothing else, Kris needed closure.
Oblivion
Inglewood | Morningside Park
The first rays of sunlight rose up over the quiet neighborhood, simple single-family homes with bits of grass and flowers in the yards, older model cars in the driveways. It wasn’t a wealthy neighborhood, but it was obvious that everyone cared about their homes and wanted to show their pride. Overhead, the roar of planes descending into LAX shattered through the pre-dawn silence, broken up even further by stray barks and a siren in the distance. The small park around the corner from the bus stop was dotted with a few motivated joggers while others were on the sidewalks, still yawning and in their pajamas while trying to keep their excited dogs close to them.
They greeted one another with sleepy waves, their dogs jumping around and barking at each other eagerly, thrilled to be out of their homes. An errant Labrador escaped his leash as his owner was busy finishing the last of his coffee. The dog rushed to a thicket of bushes, sniffing around. He barked and yelped, running back and forth until his owner ran to where he was.
He ran after him, “Ramen!” he scolded out of breath. “What’s gotten into you? It’s too early for this shit,” he grumbled. The owner bent down to grab the end of the leash and pulled his dog to his body, “What the hell is wrong with you? What are you bar…” He glanced to the bushes to see if there was an errant tennis ball and instead gasped. He yanked on the leash and grabbed Ramen close to him, “Oh my god.”
“Oh, my god,” he choked out. He backed up, tripping over himself to get away from the bloodied arm that lay lifelessly in the dirt.
He screamed.
**
“…like carotid artery from the thoracic ruptured, he had no chance. Male Hispanic, late teens. ID says Xavier Mendoza, address is a few blocks from here.”
“Thanks, Greg,” Adam said as he tore of his latex gloves and walked away. He threw them into the biohazard bin as he headed to the van, stepping over the yellow police tape. Picking up the radio, he called it in, voice devoid of emotion.
He punched his fist against the door of the van as he watched the body of Xavier Mendoza be lifted onto the gurney, zipper sliding up to hide his body and finally his face. LAPD officers had the lovely job of going to the boy’s house to break the news to his family. The shattered family would never be the same again. He sat down heavily onto the curb and buried his head in his hands.
At the shadow blocking the late morning sun, Adam looked up and quickly turned away. “What?”
“Wanted to see if you’re okay,” Kris said quietly.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
Adam stood up from where he was sitting on the curb, “You don’t know shit.” He glared at Kris as he attempted to reach out with a bare hand. “I have to do some paperwork,” and stormed across the street to the other van.
As soon as he was hidden by the van, Adam leaned against the side of it and slumped down, hands on his knees, trying to regulate his breathing. He held himself up from collapsing onto the ground, attempting to wipe the memories of the images and heat of Kris’s body from his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about Kris, his priorities were fucked up.
“Adam?”
Adam’s breathing faltered at Anoop’s voice, and he allowed himself to sink down lower, “Yeah. Give me a few.”
“Let’s get back,” Anoop said quietly, rubbing his back. “Got everything we need here.”
He moved into Anoop’s arms. “I don’t think I can do this,” Adam admitted.
The Story
Westwood | UCLA Marshall Field
“Anoop. Hey, Anoop!” Kris called out running after him.
Anoop slowed down and waited for Kris to catch up. He said nothing as he started his run again, Kris keeping pace with him as they ran another mile.
“How’d you find me?” Anoop asked while toweling down. He grabbed two bottles of water from his bag, offering Kris one.
“Thanks,” Kris said taking it. “Uh, the guys at the office, they said I’d be able to find you here.”
Anoop sat on the grass and started to stretch out his legs. He looked up and squinted at Kris, “What did you want?”
Kris shrugged before lifting his arms above his head, “We haven’t really had a chance to talk, to catch up.” He sat down and bent over and extended his arms and legs.
“Nothing to catch up on, man,” Anoop said as he stood up.
“Really, Anoop?”
Throwing his empty bottle into the recycling bin, Anoop stuffed his bag with his towel. “What?” Anoop replied. “You’re obviously doing well. We’ve all seen the accolades you’ve gotten from the Bureau. You and Mills are here to help us out. Caught up.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
“Listen, Allen,” turning to Kris as he approached the bench. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to do, but let’s be straight with each other. You’re here to get news about Adam.” He lifted the bag over his shoulder and sneered, “You haven’t exactly been subtle. People are starting to ask questions and there’s gossip going around, which Adam doesn’t need. Do me a favor, hell, do him a favor and just leave him alone, okay? You’ve hurt him enough.”
“Fuck you, Anoop!” Kris shouted, patience snapped. He stepped up into Anoop’s face, “If you want to talk about hurt, he left me!” He pounded his chest over his heart, “He’s the one that ran away from me.” Breathing heavily, he stepped back, “I know he’s your best friend, but we were all best of friends at one time. I know it’s been a while, but don’t try to tell me that he’s the one that’s hurt, okay? Adam’s the asshole here.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Allen,” Anoop snarled. “You weren’t there when he broke down.” He moved forward and poked a finger into Kris’s shoulder, “You weren’t there when he signed up for every fucking high-risk mission, trying to kill himself.” He shoved Kris back, making him trip, “You weren’t there when he was throwing himself at every man that looked like you then vomiting when they tried to touch him back. So, no Allen,” Anoop breathed out. “Fuck. You.”
Anoop fished out his keys and put on his sunglasses. “Leave him alone, Kris.”
“I can’t…” Kris whispered as he fell to the ground.
~*~*~*~*~
...to be continued... in Part II
Title: See You in the Dark
Author: bubby_wubby
Artist: banbury
Type: AU
Word Count: approx. 22,000
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Kris Allen | Adam Lambert
Warnings Strong language | violence
Summary: In this alternate universe, werewolves live among humans in relative peace. Neither Kris nor Adam are werewolves, but they are part of an elite government team that hunts down dangerous rogue werewolves. They make cities a safer place to live; however, being assigned to the same task force proves to be a problem since a past miscommunication has torn them apart.
Link to art master post: Over here
Thank you to: Who else…the awesome anobakitay and my Ernie pennilesspoet17 for reading through all my stuff, good, bad and ugly. To banbury, it was a pleasure working with you on this.
A/N: This is something I’ve never done before, both genre- and style-wise. The story is based on various songs from the band 30 Seconds to Mars, each chapter title is a song and fits a ~theme as I interpreted them.
Disclaimer: This is not true. This obviously did not happen. Final mistakes are mine, and mine alone.
One shot on DW
~*~*~*~*~
Five years ago
A Beautiful Lie
Temecula | Lake Skinner
Mosquitoes buzzed around Adam’s head as he tried to slap them away with little success. The annoying high-pitched drone of insects clashed with the sounds of the rushing water from the reservoir and other night creatures around the makeshift cabins on the campgrounds. The sun had just set a few minutes ago casting the area in a soft glow. After dinner, all the campers dispersed into their own corners to rest, chat or have a few minutes alone before the midnight training sessions began.
The camp leaders, dressed in black fatigues, were sitting around the fire, shuffling paperwork amongst themselves, prepping for the upcoming drills. Fresh-faced teenagers dragged boxes to a corner of the cleared area, stacking them against wood tables and folding chairs.
Adam looked around and quietly made his way to cabin five, its windows wide open, cheap sheets flowing back and forth with the occasional breeze. The interior was lit softly with giant citronella candles and gas-powered lanterns that were stacked along the shelves by the windows and doors to keep bugs away. The bug zapper snapped and crackled as an errant insect blindingly flew into the bright light.
As he stepped onto the rickety landing by the front door, laughter floated out from the windows. Curiosity won over manners as Adam dropped his hand from knocking and instead slinked his way around to the side of the cabin to eavesdrop.
The soft clicks and snaps of guns being cleaned and reassembled broke through the casual conversation about potential location assignments. Adam smiled and was about to move when he heard the question that froze him to his spot.
“What’s the deal between you and Lambert anyway?” a voice asked. Adam couldn’t properly place who it was, as the occupants were talking in low tones.
“Nothing, man. Why do you think there would be?”
That voice Adam knew. Kris Allen.
“You two seem, I don’t know, close.”
Kris chuckled, “We’re all close and competitive here. Not any different than you and Campbell or Cale and Toshi.”
Ah, the other man was Cooper. Adam sunk lower into the shadows, knowing this was something he shouldn’t be listening to, but couldn’t help anyway.
“Naw, man. It’s different between you two. I mean, he’s close to Desai, but you can see the genuine friendship there. You two, I don’t know, it’s like you’re good friends, but there’s an underlying…something…it’s weird.”
“Like how?” Kris asked. “What’s weird?”
Adam heard the thread of annoyance creep into Kris’s voice.
“I gotta know, you getting some on the down-low, dude?” Cooper asked. “No big deal, cuz I know all this testosterone is driving us crazy, and you four guys have been training together for a while now. I don’t know, it’s like, kind of like prison, right? You get what you can when you can? And who can blame you? Lambert’s prettier than some women I know.”
Kris laughed, “What if I am? It’s no big deal. Stress relief, you know?”
“Damn, dude,” Cooper whistled. “And?”
“And, nothing, man,” Kris answered nonchalantly. “Sometimes you gotta make exceptions to get what you need. And if he’s willing and able? Shit, man, I’m not gonna complain.”
“Is it weird? He’s hung like a horse.”
“It’s alright. He gets me off, I get him off, mutual release, right? Can’t be going around these training sessions all horny and shit, it’ll get you in trouble if you’re distracted like that. Need your senses on high-alert all the time.”
Adam’s stomach dropped. It felt like it was filled with molten lead, heavy and solid, yet churning and ready to crawl up his insides and punch its way out. He found himself unable to breathe, as his throat bubbled up with cries of anguish and shouts of pain and threats of anger, none of which he let out. Putting up a shaking hand, his body quaked from what he just overheard. He ran off into the sparse woods hundreds of yards away from the cabins and finally heaved out his dinner. Coughing up the last of the vomit, bile and spit from his stomach, he staggered to the small stream to rinse out his mouth.
Three years ago
Attack
Dockweiler Beach | Pit 17
The acrid smell of burning fur and flesh filled the air, almost overpowering the perpetual stench of dried, decaying seaweed, rotted food, airplane fuel and un-bathed bodies that normally permeated this part of the beach. The roaring of plane engines covered the sounds of the fight happening along the edge of the water and sand. The sparks and crackles of the bonfire created a supporting soundtrack to the thuds of flesh pounding on flesh, grunts and growls.
Large corrugated cardboard pieces made up temporary walls to block off a wide area of the battle. Lines that had been drawn around in the sand had long disappeared as flecks of dirt and fur flew up and out; spectators remained standing stoically in a semi-circle, watching the fight intensely.
The hostile bodies behind the giant fire pit created an amalgamation of warriors moving to an ancient ritual, their shadows creating a wicked dance. Two creatures clawed, snapped and bit at each other. Growls and howls of pain echoed into the night air, spittle and dark blood flew around landing in the fire creating sizzles as the shapes born of nightmares tore into each other. These living things that were half human and half wolf, with patches of hair and enormous arms that extended into huge paws with jagged claws attacked each other with frenzy. Faces stretched and elongated into muzzles, distorting human faces into animals with jaws full of sharp teeth.
With a lunge, the black and silver furred werewolf tackled the dark brown one and bit down into its shoulder. A screech reverberated into the air.
“Submit,” the black and silver creature snarled as it raised its head, blood and skin stuck to its teeth.
“Fuck. You.” The brown-furred one grunted out, spitting out broken teeth and blood-stained saliva.
Another bite before the brown werewolf used its legs to push the smaller black and silver one off its body, but before the black and silver creature could be tossed away, its jaw gripped tighter and tore a chunk of muscle. A roar permeated the air as the black and silver werewolf spit the flesh into the fire pit and used the momentum to move its arm in a giant arc to swipe the larger wolf’s body. The hard-edged claws sliced through flesh and muscle until pale white bone was exposed, making the brown one buckle to its knees in pain.
The brown one lowered its head, waiting for the death strike.
“Leave my territory!” the black and silver one bellowed standing tall. “I am the Alpha of this pack. Your sick deviations have no place here. I will show you mercy and allow you to leave this one time.” With a final strike across its face and torso, the silver and black one howled, announcing to the world his victory. “You show up again, and there will be death,” it growled.
Two smaller creatures scurried to the brown one’s aide, picking it up and dragging it away, mocking howls following them in their wake.
“You’ll pay for this you fucking bastard,” the brown one whispered. He spit out blood one final time before disappearing into the dark, collapsing into the arms of his friends.
**
Robert Lucas stood in front of the room to address everyone. He was a tall, imposing man, hair gray, face unlined, body still heavily muscled and straight back belying his age. However, as he situated himself, people could see his bruised face, lips and eyes swollen, his left arm was in a sling and he had walked into the large meeting room with a noticeable limp.
Despite his battered appearance, his black suit stark against the fluorescent lights, he remained upright, power emanating from his body, causing ripples of discomfort to the wolves in the room. The humans simply felt uneasiness and sudden anxiety, like walking past a dark alleyway at two in the morning and wanting to get out of the area and head into the other direction as soon as possible.
“It is done,” he declared simply, his voice carrying the across the room with no microphone. “The PacificSun pack is clear of the lesion that has caused such dissension in the pack for many years. For as long as I’m Alpha of this pack, I will not allow behavior that will cause conflict and discord or harm our fellow brethren, human or wolf. We are and will continue to be civilized beings.”
He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of every single creature, making sure he was understood. There would be no more bloodshed.
“Challenges will not go unheeded. If you have a problem, we will discuss it. If you don’t agree with the way that I rule, you are welcome to leave without bloodshed. But do not think that I will allow evil to grow and fester in this pack,” he growled. “Rogues have no place here.” With that, he left the room.
The five men in suits who stood aside in the dark nodded. They gave a discrete signal to the line of soldiers, two of the wolf lieutenants nodded back. With the acknowledgement, the five men silently left the room.
Present Day
From Yesterday
Venice, CA | Cracker’s Gym
“Ooomph,” Adam grunted out as Anoop landed a kick to his solar plexus.
“Come on Lambert, stop being a pussy!” Anoop taunted. He took a step back and crouched low, hands out, readying himself for the counter-attack. “You’re losing your touch if I got that kick in.”
They had been in the gym, grappling for the last 30 minutes.
“Fucker,” Adam growled as he bounced on his feet. He feigned left with his arms, then twisted to the right and landed a blow on Anoop’s back, right under the shoulder blade, making him fall onto the mat with a loud thump. Adam placed a knee on Anoop’s back and tugged his arm back, slight, but with enough pull that if they were in a real situation, Adam would’ve dislocated his shoulder.
Anoop laughed and pounded his free hand onto the mat three times, “I give.” He laughed again, “I give asshole! Get off me.” He rolled over onto his back the second Adam released him. He breathed out, “Jackass.”
Adam yanked two towels from the empty chair in the corner. Throwing one to him, “What? You’re losing your touch, Desai.”
Anoop huffed out a chuckle, “I’ve always been the brains; you’ve been the looks with a touch of muscle.”
“A ‘touch’ of muscle?” Adam snorted. “Right,” Adam grunted as he leaned over to the cooler on the floor. “Water or the vitamin shit?”
“The vitamin shit,” Anoop said, sitting up. He gave Adam a considering look as he caught the bottle thrown at him.
“What?”
Anoop slowly uncapped the bottle and shrugged, “Nothing, man.”
“What was that look for?”
“You’ve been…I don’t know…forget it.”
Adam scowled and padded back over to the mats where Anoop was sitting. Plopping down next to him, he nudged his shoulder, “I’ve been what? Tell me.”
Anoop sighed, “It’s May.”
“So?”
Shaking his head, “You never talked about it. I mean, there were pieces here and there…” Anoop felt Adam’s body stiffen next to him, but he continued. “You just…I just…” he stopped. “You know what? Never mind, just over-thinking things like I normally do,” Anoop said standing up. He held out a hand, “Come on. Showers, then dinner. We’re supposed to meet the guys at Hole in the Wall.”
Adam slumped for a second, then grabbed Anoop’s hand, “Yeah, let’s go.”
Night of the Hunter
Downtown Los Angeles | Garment District
The blood-curdling screams tore through the streets, echoing off the buildings, making even the nocturnal creatures scurry away deeper into the shadows with fear. Windows slammed shut and all forms of light were turned off as people hid away from the malevolent presence outside their homes. The sounds went away in the only way violent death could extinguish, with sudden and abrupt silence.
The heavy fall of running footsteps pounded solidly on wet sidewalks, spraying jets of dirty water outward. Thumps of boots, rattles of metal on metal and the clatter of weapons being drawn jumbled together as the smell of burnt rubber and shrieks from tires reverberated down the streets. The jarring bursts of static from walkie-talkies and muffled the sounds of fervent orders bounced from the ground and disappeared into the darkened sky. The scent of fear and the air of pain wafted through the alleyways, leaving a visceral trail.
Giant figures in black stalked the grounds, the arsenal on and around their bodies shining off the dim streetlamps and reflected back from damp patches onto the streets of the full moon. The black sky opened its arms to showcase the yellowed moon, as wisps of clouds floated away having done their job of darkening the city. The Los Angeles night sky finally won its battle against the nightmare demons to become the City of Angels again, only several hours too late.
A deep rumble blasted through the walkie-talkies, “Found them. Three bodies on St. Julian and Seventh, alleyway halfway down on the east side of the street. Called it in, send in the clean up team. The rest of you head on back, those on patrol, keep going. We need to find these freaks.”
Voices chimed back, acknowledging the location and commands. The men gathered in groups, grips still strong on their weapons as they jumped into black vans and made their way to the bodies. Frantic calls were made to the coroner’s office, police station, various forensic teams and headquarters, the environment filled with anxiety as they descended onto the blackened back alley.
The air was thick with death, congealed blood sticking to the bottoms of chunky rubber-soled boots. Clicks from weapons being reloaded and put away resonated against the brick buildings, hiding the occasional sound of dry heaves and vomiting.
“Fuckin’ rookies,” someone mumbled.
The three bodies were laid out like boneless rag dolls, their insides spilling out like a waterfall of thick, shiny yarn. Unseeing eyes were glassy and muted with blood, staring out at the graffiti across from them, arms and legs splayed out like puppets whose master had cut the strings. Streaks of dried blood mixed in with lumps of dried out cement, weeds and dirt that decorated the alley, which was now filled with bright lights of the vans and flashlights; the story of their brutal casualties exposed in sticky, black patterns on the ground.
“Christ, the smell,” another voice grumbled. “I’ll never get used to that.”
“Vapo-Rub right above your lip, dude.”
“Mix Vasoline with eucalyptus or rose oil,” another chimed in.
Howls reverberated against the night sky, ricocheting from the ground and dissipating into the darkness, the wail and yowling of it sounding almost like laughter.
**
Anoop was typing furiously into the keypad, locking into the various CCTV cameras in the area trying to get a lock-down on images of what happened. “Time?” he asked.
Adam was checking coordinates from his phone and a hand-held tablet, “Looks like 20 minutes ago.” He slammed his hand on console inside the van, “We just missed it. Fuck.”
“These cameras are shit.”
“The building owners don’t care,” Adam grunted out. “We’re lucky they were even working.”
“The city cameras are no better, but at least the resolution is there,” Anoop said absentmindedly, typing and glancing up at the six small screens in front on him. He pointed to one of the monitors, “There, in the shadows, looks like five of ‘em. That means I’m not crazy.”
“Of course you’re not crazy, you got more than the rest of the useless BPI asswipes,” Adam scolded.
“I hope there’s more forensic evidence this time, as much as I hate not getting here in time, at least they seem to be getting sloppier.”
“We’ll get them, Anoop.”
The Battle of One
Santa Monica | G-Man’s Watering Hole
“Tough night?” Matt asked, his trusty fedora cocked sideways on his head.
Adam slouched down and face-planted into the sticky bar top, black hair falling off to the side, his forehead barely making it to the pile of scrunched up napkins. “You have no idea,” he mumbled.
Matt laughed and placed another glass next to Adam’s face, “Here, last call. Drink up and let me know if you need a ride back to your place.”
“Thanks, Matt, but I think I’ll be okay.” Adam lifted his head and swatted at a stray napkin stuck on his face. “How are the rest of my guys?”
Taking away the empty glasses, Matt looked over at the huddle of men nursing drinks, “Most of them seem like they’re hanging on, but you might have to make a call to help them home.”
Adam nodded and rubbed at his forehead, wiping at the stray bits of paper stuck on his skin. After slapping his fingers free of paper, he took the extra limes Matt placed on a small plate and squeezed them into the glass, “Yeah, I’ll have them bring a couple vans around.”
“How bad was it?” Matt asked quietly.
Adam shook his head and closed his eyes. The vision was imprinted on him, as was every other body they found in the last three months. The attacks were getting worse, getting more gruesome as time went by.
“It was ugly, Matt,” Adam said tersely. “Three tonight.”
“Shit,” Matt whistled. He placed a hand on Adam’s arm, “I’m sorry.”
Adam sighed, “Thanks. It’s all so random, we can’t pinpoint anything.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.”
“What’s Anoop saying about the attacks?”
“No identification of the bodies yet, but three women,” Adam answered as he rubbed his eyes with his thumbs. “And, fuck it all, but there’ve been no discernible pattern behind the attacks. The only common factor has been dark alleyways near abandoned buildings. A mix of male and female, no ethnic or sexual archetypes, so there’s nothing there. We’re talking with the various pack leaders, but they’re at a loss, too. For some reason, they don’t know a thing about these rogues, so can’t even begin to contain them. All I know is that they’re fucking pissed off about this, let me tell you.”
“More than us?”
“Yeah, because this fucks things up for them, too. It’s been good for them the last five years since the treaty’s been in place, and things have been peaceful.” Adam stopped to take a large gulp and grimaced as the vodka slid down his throat. “They’re insisting it’s not members of their respective packs, but rogues from other territories. And, of course, the other territory pack leaders are pissed off at the accusations; which isn’t making things easier. The best guess is that these fucking rogues probably got kicked out of their packs or have it in for the PacificSun Pack as a whole. I mean, we have full cooperation from the PacSun Alpha, but…”
“Are you hearing anything from the groups San Francisco, Ashland or Kirkland?”
“No. Looks like it’s staying in the LA area, which is both good and bad. I don’t think we could handle it if this was happening up and down the coast, much less Orange County, San Diego or the desert. Everyone’s been warned to be extra cautious. Robert, the PacSun Alpha is fucking pissed beyond belief. His credibility and leadership skills are being questioned up and down the coast since it’s his territory.”
They let the silence fall.
Clearing his throat, Matt finally asked, “You want me to make the call for the vans?”
Adam lifted his head and knocked back the rest of liquid in his glass, “No, I’ll make the call now.”
“Be careful.”
“You, too, Matt,” Adam said as he dropped some bills onto the bar. “Thanks for the drinks and the ear.”
This is War
East Los Angeles | Huntington Park
The dank warehouse smelled of blood, urine and sweat, but none of the occupants seemed to notice or care. Dirty mattresses with rusted springs lined one end of the cement floor, frayed bits of peeling yellowed paint lined the walls in thick splotches. Bits of fur and bones were shoved into a corner, creating a nauseating-looking nest where two corpses with dried up skin and protruding bones were curled as if trying to hide from the nastiness of the windowless room.
Kevin Burton yawned and stretched his giant body, bones cracking and popping with each twist as he eased himself off a ratty couch. He looked around and saw his two friends sprawled out on sleeping bags near the giant metal door, oblivious to the radio alarm going off. Five other members of his makeshift pack were splayed out on the mattresses in a corner, unconscious and ignorant of the fact that it was mid-afternoon.
…and LAPD has issued a city-wide warning for residents to stay indoors as much as possible. Though the Bureau of Paranormal Investigations is the heading the taskforce for any clues leading to the…
Kevin slammed the radio off. He already knew what the BPI and LAPD were doing…a big fat load of nothing. He grinned at the thought. He, Billy, Skeetch and the rest of his crew had a giant city with a population of nine million cowering in fear and wetting themselves daily. And, the fuckheads of the PacSun pack couldn’t do jack-shit to stop them. He’d stop the carnage once he took over the territory; he’d demand the pack and their acquiescence, as well as complete leadership privileges in exchange. Well, maybe not completely stop the bloodshed, after all, humans needed fear as a motivator; but those were minor quibbles that he’d deal with once he became Alpha.
Reaching down, he grabbed two empty soda cans and threw them at Skeetch and Billy. If he was awake, they needed to be up, too. There was more planning to do, and as he sniffed the air and himself, he wrinkled his nose. Yeah, they needed to find new digs. The future Alpha shouldn’t be living in a shithole or acting like a degenerate. His mother used to tell him every day to live like he was meant to live-a king-and he’d do that, starting today.
As Kevin scratched his head and armpit, absently patting the scars on his shoulder as he thought of what needed to be done. It was going to be a couple of busy days trying to ingratiate themselves into the human world. Kevin shuddered at the thought, but in order to execute his plan to take over the pack, he could suck it up for a little bit.
They would check into a hotel for a few days and get cleaned up. Then, while he shopped for proper attire, Billy would find them a nice place to live and Skeetch would get them a set of wheels. The other guys could do some location scouting for their next attack. It was all coming together. Too bad he had to wait this long, but funds were a bit on the short side when the plan was first hatched. After rampaging through Nevada and New Mexico, they now had enough cash to live a little until he could set up a proper meeting with that pussy Robert, current Alpha of the PacSun pack.
He stood up and stretched his body, bones creaking from the uncomfortable futon. He kicked it, saying good-riddance to it in his head. The three whores were nasty feeding last night, their blood tainted with alcohol and drugs. He grimaced as he thought back to skin that had been weathered by hard living and not enough care, lack of muscle from not enough food. Running his hand over his belly, his grimace turned into a grin as he relived the chase that took place once the whores realized that they meant to kill.
Last night was enough to keep them sated for a few days. Plus, he needed to make sure there was no logical pattern for LAPD or the BPI to decipher. That wouldn’t be fun, would it?
Hunter
Santa Monica | Water Gardens Office Complex
The peacefulness of the fountains in the courtyard and the sunny blue skies belied the fact that one of the scariest and most intimidating arms of the government had offices, dorms, storage and training facilities among the technology firms and Hollywood production houses in the serene business park. All the buildings had green tinted glass windows that deftly deflected the bright rays of the sun and mirrored fluffy clouds as light ocean breezes moved them eastward. The giant oaks provided patches of shade on the carefully manicured grass and beds of colorful flowers.
The peaceful exterior of the office complex had nothing on the walking embodiment of calm that was Michael Sarver. Mike was a big man, an imposing man, his giant body taut with muscles that overshadowed most of the people that worked for and with him. The hard surface belied the soft-heart inside and the smiling blue eyes. As the director of the Bureau of Paranormal Investigations, Mike’s job was to ensure Southern California’s paranormal citizens behaved themselves. They handled situations that local police departments couldn’t take care of, or didn’t want to.
This morning, his eyes were hard and had bags under them, the easy smile was nowhere to be found on his face. “Lambert!” he shouted from his door. “You and Desai, in my office now.”
Adam looked up from his paperwork and glanced over at Anoop, who was typing furiously on his keyboard. Shoulders slumped, but with a final tap, Anoop scooted his chair back and stopped at Adam’s desk, “Come on, Big Mike’s in a mood.”
“Know what this is about?” Adam asked as he pulled on his shirt sleeves.
“If it’s what I think it is, then we’re not going to be happy,” Anoop mumbled. “Actually, more like you won’t be happy.”
Adam eyed his friend, not sure of what to make of the vague statement. They made their way up the small set of stairs that separated the main “pit” of agents’ desks to the “executive” level where most of the management and top administrators, including Mike’s office, conference rooms and the Bureau Chief’s office, were located.
Walking up the worn gray carpet quickly, Adam choked back a sound when he saw three figures in the adjoining meeting room to Mike’s office. Anoop snapped his head in Adam’s direction when he, too, saw the men.
“Shit,” Adam whispered.
“You gonna be okay?”
Adam nodded as they entered the room.
Mike stood up from his chair to greet them, face hard, silently telling Adam and Anoop both to remain quiet and not argue.
“Gentlemen, these are our two senior agents, Adam Lambert and Anoop Desai,” Mike announced. He pointed to two empty chairs as he went around to the head of the table. “Lambert, Desai, this is Director Dave Caldwell from the Southeast region and his top agents Kris Allen and Cale Mills.”
Kris leaned back in his chair and smirked, “Adam, Anoop.” He gave them a mocking salute before crossing his arms again.
Director Caldwell quickly masked the surprise on his face, “Agent Allen, you know these men?”
Kris smiled as Mike quickly answered, “I believe the four of them went through training together in Plano, Silver Springs and Temecula. They were the top of their recruiting class. Lambert and Desai had assignments in Seattle, Reno and settled with us here in LA. Mills and Allen were shipped to Virginia Beach, Kansas City, and ended up in Atlanta.”
Cale glanced up from his coffee mug and shot a soft smile at Adam and Anoop, but quickly looked back down. Anoop quirked his mouth to acknowledge him and took his seat, while Adam scowled before sitting down.
Ignoring the group, Mike went to the end of the table where a giant flat-screen display hung on the wall next to two smaller ones on each side. He flicked them all on and motioned for the lights to be dimmed.
“Agents Mills and Allen have been temporarily re-assigned to help us out for the duration of this case,” Mike announced. “As you know, they’ve had great success in upstate New York in capturing the rogue gang responsible for 17 murders, both human and wolf, as well as putting a lid on the uprisings in St. Louis and Memphis, all in the last year.”
Adam rolled his eyes and shook his head. As he glanced around the table, he found Kris staring at him. Averting his gaze, Adam turned his attention back at Big Mike.
“…the Southeast office has been generous enough to transfer Agents Mills and Allen to help us because this situation has officially spiraled out of control,” Mike was saying. He grabbed the remote and to start the slide show of images. “There’s no conspicuous pattern that we’ve come across. Anoop and his team have been working tirelessly trying to come up with a profile of these werewolf rogues.”
He looked to Anoop and nodded. Anoop stood up and took his place next to Mike. He pointed to the folders at the end of the table.
“In those folders is as much information as we’ve been able to put together,” Anoop stated. He pointed to the screen as it changed to the next image. “After the mess three nights ago, we’re up to 12 bodies, all human. We now know there are a minimum of five rogues, all male, from the hair, fiber and teeth marks left behind on the bodies. We’re guessing there are more and that they’re breaking up the kills to keep us off track. The previous kills were single and double bodies, so it was hard to separate out what little was left behind and pinpoint anything.”
Adam leaned over and grabbed the folders to pass them down table. He knew what was in the report, but with nothing else to do, he flipped through the papers and photos to keep himself occupied, but mostly to keep himself from looking over at Kris.
**
Kris kept his body and face towards the front of the room, but his eyes were focused on Adam. From the moment Adam walked into the conference room, Kris’s body was on full alert, memories assaulting him. His fingers gripped the pads of the arms of the chair, and he closed his eyes for a second to center himself and concentrate on the conversation going on around him.
When Dave Caldwell called Cale and Kris into his office, they had just come back from Buffalo. Kris didn’t even think twice about the opportunity to go to California, wanting to get the chill of sub-zero weather that had settled in him out of his bones. It didn’t matter that it would be LA’s rainy season; it would still be warmer than where he had just spent three ass-freezing months. Only after Cale pulled him aside and double-checked did he realize LA would be where Adam was.
Now, he wasn’t sure if agreeing to this mission was a good idea. Adam barely looked at him, and when he did, for all of two seconds, it was with a scowl. Five years had been an eternity, and he still wasn’t able to figure out what happened in Temecula. He dissected all his movements, his language, analyzed every detail of those last couple weeks with Cale, and he had no answers as to why Adam shut him out and left with the first caravan to parts unknown in the middle of the night.
Of course Kris knew that one of the missions was set to leave the minute training was over and with no word on where the final location would be, but he hadn’t expected Adam to be on that team. They had mutually agreed to sign up for the San Francisco assignment, the four of them together, as they had been from the start. Temecula was the last of the training sessions, the most highly recruited soldiers in the country. And they were supposed to go through this together, as a team, the dream team.
Only Adam had volunteered alone and left the three of them behind.
Anoop was assigned out two days later, but his face and body language revealed nothing. All he told Kris and Cale was that he’d be joining Adam. No matter how much Kris begged for information, Anoop gave him the cold shoulder. He knew what happened, Kris was sure of it, yet he wouldn’t tell him anything.
Since then, Kris threw himself into his work. He took his frustration out on each mission, making sure his wrath and aggression were felt on every single rogue werewolf. With every kill, he knew that his name would be talked about, accommodations and awards with his name passed along inside the Bureau, and Adam wouldn’t be able to get away from him-okay, his name-not as long as they were both with the agency. And Adam was still very much entrenched in the agency.
He didn’t realize it when he first took the assignment, but since he landed at LAX two days ago, Kris decided he was going to make it his mission to find out what happened, why Adam ended it the way he did. If nothing else, Kris needed closure.
Oblivion
Inglewood | Morningside Park
The first rays of sunlight rose up over the quiet neighborhood, simple single-family homes with bits of grass and flowers in the yards, older model cars in the driveways. It wasn’t a wealthy neighborhood, but it was obvious that everyone cared about their homes and wanted to show their pride. Overhead, the roar of planes descending into LAX shattered through the pre-dawn silence, broken up even further by stray barks and a siren in the distance. The small park around the corner from the bus stop was dotted with a few motivated joggers while others were on the sidewalks, still yawning and in their pajamas while trying to keep their excited dogs close to them.
They greeted one another with sleepy waves, their dogs jumping around and barking at each other eagerly, thrilled to be out of their homes. An errant Labrador escaped his leash as his owner was busy finishing the last of his coffee. The dog rushed to a thicket of bushes, sniffing around. He barked and yelped, running back and forth until his owner ran to where he was.
He ran after him, “Ramen!” he scolded out of breath. “What’s gotten into you? It’s too early for this shit,” he grumbled. The owner bent down to grab the end of the leash and pulled his dog to his body, “What the hell is wrong with you? What are you bar…” He glanced to the bushes to see if there was an errant tennis ball and instead gasped. He yanked on the leash and grabbed Ramen close to him, “Oh my god.”
“Oh, my god,” he choked out. He backed up, tripping over himself to get away from the bloodied arm that lay lifelessly in the dirt.
He screamed.
**
“…like carotid artery from the thoracic ruptured, he had no chance. Male Hispanic, late teens. ID says Xavier Mendoza, address is a few blocks from here.”
“Thanks, Greg,” Adam said as he tore of his latex gloves and walked away. He threw them into the biohazard bin as he headed to the van, stepping over the yellow police tape. Picking up the radio, he called it in, voice devoid of emotion.
He punched his fist against the door of the van as he watched the body of Xavier Mendoza be lifted onto the gurney, zipper sliding up to hide his body and finally his face. LAPD officers had the lovely job of going to the boy’s house to break the news to his family. The shattered family would never be the same again. He sat down heavily onto the curb and buried his head in his hands.
At the shadow blocking the late morning sun, Adam looked up and quickly turned away. “What?”
“Wanted to see if you’re okay,” Kris said quietly.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
Adam stood up from where he was sitting on the curb, “You don’t know shit.” He glared at Kris as he attempted to reach out with a bare hand. “I have to do some paperwork,” and stormed across the street to the other van.
As soon as he was hidden by the van, Adam leaned against the side of it and slumped down, hands on his knees, trying to regulate his breathing. He held himself up from collapsing onto the ground, attempting to wipe the memories of the images and heat of Kris’s body from his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about Kris, his priorities were fucked up.
“Adam?”
Adam’s breathing faltered at Anoop’s voice, and he allowed himself to sink down lower, “Yeah. Give me a few.”
“Let’s get back,” Anoop said quietly, rubbing his back. “Got everything we need here.”
He moved into Anoop’s arms. “I don’t think I can do this,” Adam admitted.
The Story
Westwood | UCLA Marshall Field
“Anoop. Hey, Anoop!” Kris called out running after him.
Anoop slowed down and waited for Kris to catch up. He said nothing as he started his run again, Kris keeping pace with him as they ran another mile.
“How’d you find me?” Anoop asked while toweling down. He grabbed two bottles of water from his bag, offering Kris one.
“Thanks,” Kris said taking it. “Uh, the guys at the office, they said I’d be able to find you here.”
Anoop sat on the grass and started to stretch out his legs. He looked up and squinted at Kris, “What did you want?”
Kris shrugged before lifting his arms above his head, “We haven’t really had a chance to talk, to catch up.” He sat down and bent over and extended his arms and legs.
“Nothing to catch up on, man,” Anoop said as he stood up.
“Really, Anoop?”
Throwing his empty bottle into the recycling bin, Anoop stuffed his bag with his towel. “What?” Anoop replied. “You’re obviously doing well. We’ve all seen the accolades you’ve gotten from the Bureau. You and Mills are here to help us out. Caught up.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
“Listen, Allen,” turning to Kris as he approached the bench. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to do, but let’s be straight with each other. You’re here to get news about Adam.” He lifted the bag over his shoulder and sneered, “You haven’t exactly been subtle. People are starting to ask questions and there’s gossip going around, which Adam doesn’t need. Do me a favor, hell, do him a favor and just leave him alone, okay? You’ve hurt him enough.”
“Fuck you, Anoop!” Kris shouted, patience snapped. He stepped up into Anoop’s face, “If you want to talk about hurt, he left me!” He pounded his chest over his heart, “He’s the one that ran away from me.” Breathing heavily, he stepped back, “I know he’s your best friend, but we were all best of friends at one time. I know it’s been a while, but don’t try to tell me that he’s the one that’s hurt, okay? Adam’s the asshole here.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Allen,” Anoop snarled. “You weren’t there when he broke down.” He moved forward and poked a finger into Kris’s shoulder, “You weren’t there when he signed up for every fucking high-risk mission, trying to kill himself.” He shoved Kris back, making him trip, “You weren’t there when he was throwing himself at every man that looked like you then vomiting when they tried to touch him back. So, no Allen,” Anoop breathed out. “Fuck. You.”
Anoop fished out his keys and put on his sunglasses. “Leave him alone, Kris.”
“I can’t…” Kris whispered as he fell to the ground.
~*~*~*~*~
...to be continued... in Part II