TITLE: Icarus Manor, chapter 20 AUTHOR: lillywhite1, but you can call me Casey. SUMMARY: In a mysterious mansion in a secluded part of North America, a man discovers that he is far from alone in the world. Here at Icarus Manor several species of non-human description live together to survive in a world that does not know they exist. LAST CHAPTER: William gets a much needed dose of reality…er, angelicallity?...from an old friend. Dominic also gets with the program and decides to focus on the problem of the alpha. THIS CHAPTER: William awakes briefly to be thrown back into darkness by some unknown force. Dominic and Astrid stumble into an unfortunate situation. PAIRING: DM/BB, hints of EW/SA RATING: R FEEDBACK: is my neutella on a spoon that makes me go all gooey and melty and mmmmm... A/N: Text in asterisks (*) represents italics indicating remembering, creepy voice, thoughts, or general emphasis. This is a book and a work in progress. Be gentle. Comments to cswann1@gmail.com. Chapter 20 William was thrown back to Earth with frightening speed. This time he didn’t burn or lose consciousness; this time he was solid soul returning to his body. In the split second that he had, William dreaded the scene he was being pulled towards. Then he was back again, and wished he wasn’t. The pain of his scarred and swollen body grasped him upon his arrival and choked the breath out of him. The initial shock was what frightened him most; a brief moment of panic passed as William pictured the rest of eternity trapped inside this damaged and broken mortal coil of his. The screams that welled in his mind, died in his paralyzed throat. William pressed hard to keep his imagination from spiraling out of control into the madness gripping him so tightly. He began to detach. He saw his body and all he sensations it was giving him as a parade, and himself an absorbed observer. The parade raged with its physical pain of its burnt skin and smashed skeleton, the stream of endless players in the marching band stumbled on shattered limbs, the music a screaming cacophony of alarm. The baton twirlers laced throughout the band expressed the intense emotional pain that drove William to his suicidal attempt. Tearing their hair and crying out their lament, they crawled forward on bloodied and torn shins, leaving trails of gore behind them. Maniacal Shriners in topsy-turvy vehicles whirled in dangerous circles, threatening to smash into the observing crowd, their faces contorted in clownish characterizations of worry. Each with a particular worry scrawled across its back. They seemed to multiply and split to become a frenzy of uncontrollable anxiety once you focused on them. This was too much to bear for any creature. William gauged the impending madness, gained perspective, and slowly, he the observer backed away from the twisted caricature of a parade. William thanked the universe a thousand times over that he had been without a mortal shell long enough to remember how to separate from it into his original body. The pain and anguish faded as his focus shifted elsewhere. A sort of peace flowed through him as he became mostly light. This was his angelic form, or some poorer version of it. This was who he had always been, and though he was tied to this body, he had to try and get through to the others. He strained to open his spirit’s eyes. William could see his surroundings vaguely. Objects were blurry in a sort of dim light. He was perhaps in his library bedroom from the angle of the moonlight coming through the windows. A happy little entity was very close to him and glowed greenish. It must have been a plant. Suddenly, a portal opened in his mind, and foreign words streamed through him: *Don’t worry, Baby. I’ll be home soon.* It was Dominic! He was alive, well, and…worried, anxious. William groped for all the images and feelings he could before the opening closed. There was definitely danger and a pressing threat, but warm, protective feelings of family and his sister, Astrid, whom William recognized. Then it was gone. William tensed in frustration, but then there was something else. He felt very tired again, and the thought that there was someone else in the room with him faded as did his consciousness. ~ After nearly an hour of picking their way through moonlit woods, Dominic spied a small house, or perhaps a large shed not too far off in the distance. A light poured through a window illuminating the few trees around it and several figures inside. Dominic felt the wolf sneaking up to Little Red Riding Hood’s Granny’s house and softly chuckled. Astrid threw him a dirty look from behind her shoulder; her eyes caught the moonlight and shown with a possessed glow. They approached cautiously, waiting five more minutes in the brush, trying to sniff out anyone following them. When Astrid was satisfied, she stood straight, brushed off her coat and walked with purpose up to the hut door. Dominic trotted up beside her as she knocked with a peculiar pattern. “That was rather bold for all this secrecy.” Dominic said haughtily as he leaned on the side of the small structure. “Please, Dom, we’re on their side. They’re probably expecting us.” Just as the words were barely out of her mouth, two thugs reached for them and whisked them roughly inside. They were all but thrown to the floor, and the distinctive sound of guns being cocked filled the air. Dominic shifted from his half-way state back to his less threatening, human form; his eyes adjusted and the shiny things pointed in his face were the barrels of shotguns. He blinked again. Yes, definitely shotguns. Milupen: wolf soldiers. “Yup, this looks like a right expectant welcome.” Dominic grimaced. Their pack wasn’t small, but it was small enough for Dominic to know each and every one of these rebels. The lycanthropes pointing guns at him and his sister were all familiar familials. They were all cousins or second cousins or some such, the only difference between this and the holidays was there were guns involved. Of course, that really depended on which family you celebrated the holidays with. Dominic recognized a few choice characters: Kent Kean whom Dominic observed at the Howl two weeks ago with Mr. Andrews, Jackson’s father and half-brother, Robbie and Randy Howard, old Mr. Henderson, and a few others. Mrs. Avery was a strange addition secluded by the space heater. She didn’t have a gun, but her bruised and battered face was just as resolute as the rest. It was a rag-tag group that Dominic never would have imagined coming together over a purpose. They all shared a somewhat suspicious expression at the moment, but their aim never wavered. “Charlie, for fuck sake.” Astrid swore at the nearest one. That was Charlie Avery, the red-haired son to the unfortunate Mrs. Avery. He didn’t put down his own pistol, but he lowered it a bit. “You didn’t say you were coming tonight, Astrid. What are we supposed to think? Dropping-in is not the safest thing to do with the mission we are pursuing.” Charlie smiled in a singularly unnerving way. “I had no choice,” Astrid kept her voice steady despite her tense posture, “I talked to Dominic. He’s on our side. He could be the very thing we need to turn the pack in our favor.” She searched the crowd for a nod or some agreement but found none, “I need to see Jeremy.” “I’m here.” Jeremy Andrews stepped through the line of parting rebels. It had been impossible to see him from their position on the floor, but now he was in plain sight. His blonde hair fell just over his ears but made his black eyes all the more unsettling. Lanky, but with strong shoulders he managed to have significant presence for one barely thrity- five. The others all fell in behind him as one would a general. “Astrid, what is the meaning of this?” “He’s on our side, Jeremy. He’ll work with us. Please, you can trust us.” Jeremy’s black eyes moved from Astrid to Dominic. They bored into him, making Dominic extremely uncomfortable, but he held that gaze as if his life depended on it, because it very well could. Jeremy Andrews was one of the most respected werewolves in the pack. He was the best candidate for Alpha, but most believed that blood came before logic, so it was left as it was, until now. Jeremy was the son of Mr. Thomas Andrews. Both father and son were more intelligent than ninety percent of the pack, having left home to go to college. This was looked down upon in general. Leaving the pack was somewhat of a last resort. It was a possibility if one had no immediate family or responsibilities, like Cody Grace. But in the case of the Andrews, it reflected a certain amount of arrogance not prized in the community. Mr. Thomas Andrews was always viewed as a significant upstart. After attending college despite his parents’ wishes and leaving his family without his income, he had refused to mate at a single Howl. There had always been whispers about the questionable nature of such actions, but that was family business. Finally, Jeremy caved into his father’s demands and took a pack wife. Jeremy had been the result of this unfortunate pairing. The marriage soured soon enough after Thomas had encouraged his wife to leave and go to college herself. She soon took a different husband and left Thomas to raise Jeremy by himself. Thomas eventually mated again, but with another male werewolf. The laughter at Jeremy’s expense was insurmountable, and his most obsessed tormentor was none other than Richard Monaghan, Dominic’s very own brother. Jeremy never fought back, after all, Richard was the crowned prince of the pack. But eventually, the joke wore thin and Jeremy lost it one day and beat the living snot out of Richard before half the pack. The funny thing was no one stopped him. Even Dominic’s dad took no action against the boy or his family. From that day on, Jeremy Andrews at the age of fifteen gained the respect of the entire pack, and not one more joke was heard. Dominic’s dad made Mr. Andrews senior the tutor to his youngest son and after Jeremy returned from college, he was given a seat on the pack counsel. At this moment, Dominic prayed that all of his father’s good deeds would pay off and Jeremy would trust him and not have him shot in the woods. If Jeremy had been a bit younger, he and Dominic could have been great friends. “Astrid, I will speak with you in private.” He offered her a hand as she stood, and he led her into the one other room of the house. “Milupen, you can drop your guns, but keep an eye on him till I get back.” Simultaneously, all weapons were lowered. The sound of hammers resting once more was heard, and Dominic rose to his feet. The other wolves began to talk in hushed voices. Dominic took a seat by Mrs. Avery. A few seconds of silence passed before Dominic spoke. “I’m sorry that Bernadette stole your dress.” Her swollen face nearly smiled. “I am sorry your father died. He was a good man.” Dominic’s throat constricted a little at the mentioning of his father, “He would not have let Bernadette take your things.” The truth was that his father would not have let the fight happen at all. Mrs. Avery was too old to be participating in bitchfights, but all wolves had their pride, especially the aging women. Dominic silently cursed Richard for allowing such a thing to occur. She nodded, “You’re a good boy.” She softly padded his knee with her hand. Dominic could not help but notice the fresh cast on her wrist. It was odd that Mrs. Avery was there at all. Women were generally not pack leaders because they usually lost in Rumbles, and that was when they were allowed to compete. The werewolf population had never been a plentiful one, and to put their women in harms way was something most packs liked to avoid. There was definitely rebellion. That’s the way werewolves are, but in general males were so much bigger and stronger that women rarely won Alpha. “Mrs. Avery, why are you here?” She looked startled and offended at the question. “Not to impugn you in any way, Madame, but in your condition the trek through the woods was probably not easy.” “Ah, yes, well, I’m here to support my boys,” she looked about her as several of them smiled at her, “and I don’t much care for Richard’s treatment of me. I will do whatever I can to get that bastard voted out.” “I’m with you, dear.” “Then you are participating in our little coup?” Her aging face looked hopeful. “Well, I didn’t come here to talk you out of anything.” A door creaked open, and Astrid and Jeremy reentered the room. Everyone’s eyes were on them. “Gentlemen and ladies, we will incorporate Mr. Monaghan into our plans. He is to be trusted.” They spoke of plans and allies, enemies and leaders. The hours slid by as the plan was refined and reworked to accommodate Dominic. Dominic made his wish to win honestly heard, and an attempt was promised. Astrid was naturally opposed, but Jeremy saw his point and allotted for it. They would let the two brothers fight until Dominic gave them the signal to move in. Whether Dominic won on his own, he’d have a hidden army should he need help. Dominic would be protected at all costs, that way Jeremy’s new position as Alpha would be blessed by Dominic to appease those clinging to the bloodline tradition. The plan was simple. The biggest problem was recognizing their enemies. Should the rebellion be caught, Richard could take them to the Counsel of the Loup-garou and charge them with mutiny. They could be banished, and a few of them could be executed. Or Richard could employ a few loyal werewolves to take execution into their own hands. They would not underestimate him. As far as they knew, every other able-bodied lycanthrope was a stoic supporter of the rightful Alpha. They could only hope that when the time came to choose sides, the general unrest would grant them all the support they’d need. ~ Thanks for reading! Please email comments to cswann1@gmail.com.