In those part of Fur Rivers woods, standing tall and proud on a cliff side, was a huge, gothic mansion – it actually looked like Dracula’s lair when you take a good closer look at it – the stone house was draped in deep dark- purple shades that served to intensify its brooding atmosphere. That night then, Caesar, his face clouded with thoughts, strolled to the front door of his gigantic house and lifted the Panther’s - heavy and old – knocker.
He banged it.....powerfully.......three times and waited......knowing that the girl who was inside would have heard it........and knowing that the girl was going to take her time as if she had all the time in the world.
For two minutes, he waited grudgingly, anger seething from him and knowing that he had no other choice than to wait. After a while, the heavy swung open. A girl stood at the entrance of the door. She wore an armless leather jacket which outlined her ample bosom, black tight- fitting tight pants, and black boots. She was a blonde, with jaded, green eyes, big, gash like mouth that was red with paint, thick, black long hair, twisted to a ponytail, reached to her waistline and her face, accentuated with strong, feminine features. She had the looks of one of those girls you see in Taylors Swifts - Bad blood. The girl was Caesar’s only sister – his flesh and blood. Her name is Marianna Davenport. She saw him and her face changed into a smile.
“Where have you been? Busy chasing the bad boys in town?” Then she noticed the lines of anger on his face. “You looked like you’ve swallowed a bee! What’s wrong?”
“Don’t taunt me, this night, Mariana. Keep your mouth to yourself.” Caesar growled as he swerved past her into the vast, well lit hallway, and strolled into the living room. The room also had a dark, draconic look.
There were three, big, black leather arm chairs, the walls, was a mask of dark hue, a huge chandelier hung from the ceilings. A vast bar filled with wines, liqueurs and vodka bottles. On the walls were two, big swords, crossing each other, forming the shape X, battle axes, pikes, suits of armor all gleamed at him. The rest of the walls were covered with paintings by French and Nordic masters but one of the paintings stood out.
It was the painting of a man with a classic, aristocratic renaissance look. The man wore thick, black over coats. He was bald and his deep set, dark cold eyes held the attention of anyone looking at him. He was Caesar’s father, Lord Alfred Davenport. In a corner of the room, on a matte thick Persian rug, a white cat, which has folded itself into a snowy fur ball, lay curled up on the rug, his icy brown eyes shimmering like emeralds. Its pure white fur made a sharp contrast to the blackness of the rug. Its name was Amor.
Caesar headed straight towards the liquor cabinet. He lifted a bottle of Jameson Black Barrel and fixed himself a drink. The drink shot down his throat, stiffening his nerves and bringing water to his eyes.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Marianna’s voice lashed out from behind him. “What happened out there? Where did you go?”
Seeing Marianna come into the room, the cat rolled up from the rug, pranced to where she stood, making low purring sounds. Absent-mindedly, She bent down, picked him up and began to stroke its fluffy fur.
“Will you talk?” She hissed at Caesar, her green eyes alight with anxiousness and fear.
He ignored her. He fixed another drink. Cradling the glass, he moved away from the bar and walked over to one of the armchairs. He sat heavily on it. He propped his head up on his elbow, twiddling the glass in his other hand. She came over to where he sat. Knowing his hatred for Amor, she placed it on the rug. Amor made some angry, protesting screeches, dashed to matte rug and lay curled up.
Marianna stood there, hands resting on her solid waist, her eyes studying Caesar, for a long moment. Then a sudden realization came into her eyes.
“Where are your weapons?” she asked finally.
Caesar raised his eyes at her. “What?”
“I said, where are your weapons?”
Caesar wanted to lie that he had not been with his weapons at night but he remembered that his ever-nosy sister must have seen in him leave the house in haste, when he had received the call that two strangers who looked really formidable and smell of trouble were in Sam Wesley’s bar.
“They are all in the garage now,” He answered.
“For a moment there, I thought you were going to lie,” She paused, and went on. “What was it? I mean what got you so spooked?”
Caesar narrowed his eyes on her.
“Spooked? Do I get spooked?" His voice was incredulous. “I’ve never being spooked by anything in my life and I will never be!”
“Alright! Alright!” Marianna said, spreading out her hands, palms out. “Mr Never-get-spooked-in-my-life, what got you so worried?”
Knowing that she was bound to find out what had happened in Sam’s bar sooner or later, Caesar told her everything, leaving out nothing.
“What?” Marianna said, eyes bulging out of its sockets, when he was done talking. “A werewolf? Here in Fur Rivers?”
Caesar inclined his head, then sipped his drink.
“You mean all these happened just this night? You mean that animal nearly fixed Selena?” Her voice was loaded with surprise and shock.
Caesar nodded his head again.
“Those werewolves are planning to take our town from us.” He said evenly, his eyes boring into Marianna’s. “The wolf I killed and his brother who was with him that night are spies. Conan is a Beta. While his brother, Helldog, is a Delta. I recognized them. They must have been sent out by the Alpha of their pack to scout out Fur Rivers or cause some kind of trouble. That’s why they came into town. That’s why they were here.”
Marianna lifted her eyebrow at him.
“Beta? Delta? What are you saying? What do you mean? And how do you know so much about these two brothers?”
Caesar heaved heavily.
"A year back, while hunting in the Fur Rivers woods, I ran into their Alpha, Conan, and his brother, Helldog," he recalled, adjusting in his chair. "Their Alpha recognized me as a wolf hunter but didn't let them attack me. Instead, he warned they were reclaiming Fur Rivers. Conan boasted about the prowess of their pack, most especially that of his brother. Helldog did the same for him too. That was how I knew they were blood brothers. I also told them to stay away, but they disobeyed. Look at what happened now. Conan paid with his life.” He paused and went on. “Now coming back to your question, the werewolf pack hierarchy is simple: the Alpha leads, the Beta are attack dogs, and the Delta is the second-in-command. Losing a Delta is worse than losing a Beta, and a power-hungry Delta could become Alpha if the Alpha dies. I believe Helldog left Conan to die because he's more important to the pack. You should already know all this, being born into the Fur Hunters' bloodline," he scolded. "Our library has plenty of books about werewolves and more. Stop wasting time on your phone and that cat, Amor. It's making your brain slow. Start reading!"
Marianna pointed a finger at him.
“Caesar! Leave Amor out of our conversation. If you are so goddamned strong and mighty, why didn’t those beasts listen to you?”
Caesar lifted his shoulders.
“I don’t know. I guess they underestimated me. But I did warn them. That I didn’t fail to do. I told them if any one of them stepped their foot here, I’ll kill them myself. Gut their fucking hearts out, one by one,” he was breathing heavily now, anger steaming out from him. “They thought I was bluffing. Now, I proved what I meant tonight. I’m pretty sure Conan’s brother would have crawled back to their leader now and told him all that happened. I don’t fucking care. If you’d ask me the more the merrier,” and he downed the remnants of the drink, placed the glass on the floor, stood up from the chair and began to pace around the room, his hands behind him. Then he looked at her. “It has already begun! The werewolves are finally coming here. Make no mistake about that, Marianna. This is going to be a war.”
Marianna watched him with a thoughtful expression on her face. After a while, she said to him;
“So for once the stories are true?”
Caesar, whose trained mind had already forgotten about the werewolf’s, and was now thinking about Selena, turned to look at his sister’s face.
“What did you say?”
“I said for once the stories are true” She said, staring hard into his blue eyes.
“What stories?” his eyes were questioning. Then he noticed the way she was looking at him, and slowly, understanding crept up into his eyes. “Yeah, the stories are true alright. Very true.” he grunted. “But no one must hear about those things, Marianna. Those things are really bad for the ears. They are buried and most stay buried. You know that right. Don’t you?” his eyes weren’t questioning now, they were demanding.
“But sooner.....” she began.
Caesar did not let her finish. He crossed to her, grabbed her by the shoulders, yanked her to him, so that his face was breathing hard into hers.
“You are my sister, Marianna and I love you so goddamned much. But if you so much talk about the secrets we’ve protected for years even before you were born - to anyone - I’ll rip your fucking tongue out and feed it to your damned cat.” His face was as hard as stone.
The coldness in his eyes, chilled her. She knew he was not bluffing. Feeling cowered under his gaze, a sudden feeling of irritation swept across her body, and she flung his hands off her.