Finding Home

Cleo's actions did indeed shock Warren. Maybe - MAYBE - he could have stopped her had he been in perfect health, but even he had to admit that it wasn't so much her speed but her actions themselves that were the deciding factor in Warren's ability to stop her. He'd not expected in the least what she'd done and therefore could only watch as his Cleo, his little human, took down one of the most feared mythical creatures in the world.

So what if he couldn't help the grin that came to his face? She was amazing!

The werewolf watched as the vampire died, the rapid drying of blood in its veins turning the body gray and the blood vessels dark. A tiny pencil was the cause of death and gray eyes looked to Cleo's, Warren's hand finding her chin, fingers gently turning her face away. "Hey, look at me, Cleo. Look at me. You didn't do anything wrong. They would have killed you, hurt you first. You did nothing wrong."

He held her eyes for a moment, but knew they didn't have time for him to truly comfort her. Not yet. Instead, the werewolf took Cleo's hand and pulled her after him through the mansion's grounds. They managed to get to within seeing distance of the stone walls he'd leaped just a few hours previously before Warren sensed the first vampire too close for comfort. The werewolf felt the body connect with his raw back moments before he started to turn and couldn't keep the sharp cry of pain in as he was forced to release Cleo, falling forward under the weight of the vampire. The contact with his whip-shredded skin made his vision flare red with agony, but instinct was just as strong and Warren landed his hands and knees. Just as quickly, hardly able to breathe past the way his sight was darkening, he got his toes to bend, to curl into the earth, claws helping him to grip as he surged his lower body upward, sending the vampire on his back tumbling forward over his head with a hissing, spiteful sound.

Warren answered it with a growl, his fangs bared and wolf-like ears pressed back nearly flat to his head. His hair had grown longer, gained a darker shade of gold and while he didn't have fur....Warren did have a tail now, a tail that was straight and stiff with threat as he faced down the vampire...scratch that, multiple vampires, nearly eight or ten of them as they slowly appeared from around the trees and from within the upper branches of the trees.

Cleo and Warren were thoroughly surrounded and the werewolf slowly stood, blue-gray eyes glowing with a feral light, but not entirely lost to the wild nature within him as he stayed in a relatively human form for Cleo's sake. Besides, turning into a wolf wouldn't help them escape this. There was no escaping this, for either of them and Warren felt fear growing within him as he stayed before Cleo, refusing to back down even as he knew he was too near collapse. He was weaving on his feet even as he snarled, his back bleeding again, a throbbing, constant pain shooting up his spine and into his temples with relentless fury.

But he couldn't let them have Cleo.

Nick was the first vampire to speak, sounding nothing more than amused by this escape attempt. "You're caught, mutt. Might as well hand over your toy like a good dog."

A snarl answered him and a female vampire rolled her eyes. "Control your pet, Nick. The Lady wants to deal with the human personally." Nick sighed at having his fun spoiled and started toward the werewolf and human, an electric rod in his hand....but he never made his destination as fire suddenly seemed to fall from the sky, making the vampires leap back with cries of fear and anger. Their eyes immediately snapped to the group of people that crouched and stood atop the wall.

They were all red, orange or yellow of hair, swirling tattoos of the same color marking their skin and their eyes blazed with the same fire they wielded, the flames dancing over their hands suggestively, giving proof to where the initial blast had come from. The leader, in the middle of the group of seven, raised a brow, her dark orange hair a halo of wrath about her head. "I'm sorry, what was that about a pet? I must have heard wrong because from what I remember of the 1834 Treaty between the Human and Mythical Witness Protection Agency and the Petrova Coven, werewolves were to be neither baited, hunted, captured, sold or kept as pets under penalty of death. And I do seem to recall that humans, while they can be fed on, must give willing, written consent and pass a drug test before a vampire can keep them as a blood-slave."

By this point, the female had jumped the wall and approached Nick, coming face to face with the vampire, her fire-filled eyes blazing warningly. "This isn't a break in the Treaty, is it? You were just helping these two to a doctor, right? Because WPA would be most displeased if anything else was going on here."

The vampires seemed to seethe, but Nick finally conjured up a strained smile and nodded. "Of course there is no problem. It is as you say; we were simply trying to convince these two to accept help, but you know how stubborn werewolves are. I do think this one is out of his mind with pain."

"Hmm, I can imagine so. Your effort to help is admirable, but my people will take it from here." No further words were said and the vampires were forced to let the fire-people - Elementals - surround Cleo and Warren and take them through the grounds and to the gate. The werewolf had stopped growling, was back to his complete human form and all the tension seemed to have drained out of him, the adrenaline with it, forcing his body to finally collapse. It wasn't a problem as the Elementals helped him walk and while Warren didn't take his hazy gray eyes from Cleo, he let them support him.
 
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It hadn't occurred to Cleo that she intended to kill the woman who now lay dead in a pool of her own sickly blood, but even then, she couldn't believe it would have been her fault anyway. She didn't think she did anything wrong, shock and anger still coursing through her. Yet Warren's words were a small reminder that what she did was, in fact, utterly wrong despite his reassurances that she did it out of survival. Just like the switch so abruptly flipped in her, it shut down just as abruptly, and she felt so terribly confused about what she had just done.

She didn't have much time to be absolutely horrified by the fact that she had actually slaughtered someone with a pencil of all things because Warren had grabbed her and led her away.

When the sight of the brick wall came into view, she felt a twinge of hope only to have it bashed down when something, no someone, pushed her and Warren apart. Warren went tumbling to the ground, and she stumbled to the side. Her mind was in a whirl after having her only hope ripped away from her. They were so close, but since they were surrounded, they had low chances on escaping alive.

She sorely wished that she had retrieved her dangerous pencil, but her hands fumbled in her pocket for the taser she had kept along with the pepper spray. Although she was not sure how well they would work on the monsters, she was more than willing to go down trying then to do so peacefully. Especially when the male vampire had the audacity to treat Warren like a domesticated chihuahua. While she may have been afraid of the annoying rascal rats of a dog, that didn't mean the monster was, and therefore he was thoroughly disrespecting Warren. No one got away with that.

True to her word, it seemed as though the vampire wouldn't get away with it, though he would not receive the reprimanding she wished. Entrancing flames surrounded them, keeping the hissing creatures away. By the words spoken, Cleo knew that these people were predominantly on Warren and her's side at the moment, and she was entirely too relived to not have to do this all on their lonesome.

Soon enough, the bright haired fiery people had defused the situation and had both the companions traveling towards the gate, but a sultry form exited the large mansion and hurried after them. The woman from before had sauntered up to the group and pointed one sun bleached bone white fingernail at Cleo with a tear filled eyes.

"That woman," she hissed in a fitful of tears. "She killed my sister by coven! I demand retribution! A trial!"

Cleo was dumbfounded for a second or two, but she snapped shut her wide open mouth before giving the woman the nastiest glare she could possibly manage.

Cleodora exclaimed in a highly irritated and emotional voice, "You kidnapped me! Threatened my life! Beat up my best friend! And I am being accused for merely defending myself and trying to escape your insanity?! You have no right!"

The vampire's eyes flashed a dangerous color before directing the fake tear stained eyes to the Elementals of the group. She was near demanding that she retained custody of Cleodora as a prisoner, something that was not known to be done since the olden days. The only thing that stopped her from doing such was the fact that an investigation would occur because of such demands, and she knew that her side of the story was not valid. Then again, she had the word of her whole coven against that of a simple mutt and a human.
 
"Are you sure you want to do that?"

The Elemental who'd spoken before stopped walking and turned rather calmly to view the lead vampire of the Petrova Coven. The entire group halted as a whole then, listening and Warren stirred back to awareness at the sound of Cleo's voice, the scent of both anger and fear washing over her, from her, and a low, warning, rumbling growl started in his chest, working to his throat as his body tensed within the hold of the Elementals who were supporting him.

"I am Fynira, Captain of this Retrieval Squadron. Anything you might say, I am legally bound to report to WPA. You can file complaints through me." She raised a hand immediately afterward to forestall any words. "I would warn you, however, that I have no authority over the Agents of WPA or their actions, and I must report every incident that happens on a Retrieval Mission, whether it be by the Agent or those the Agent acts against. An investigation will be launched if any information I provide my superiors is alarming."

Fynira glanced toward Warren who was standing more on his own now, every muscle coiled, his fangs bared in a low snarl, claws out and if he'd had fur, it would have been bristling with the level of warning he was giving off. No one was taking Cleo from him.

"This is Agent FangRunner, one of the highest ranking operatives within WPA, highly valued and a Guardian Wolf, a rather powerful one among his kind." There were nervous glances between the vampires, not necessarily at Warren's name - though, some of them knew it - but rather the mention of what kind of werewolf he was. Many of the vampires gained dark expressions, instantly understanding that if Warren had come for the human then SHE was the one he was guarding and if they took her....they wouldn't have her for long but rather a very valuable werewolf that WPA would jump down their Covens' throat to get to.

And he was a member of WPA that they'd just tortured.

They'd be lucky to come away from this with their heads intact and the Coven unscathed. As it was, they were now going to be on the Agency's radar and under close observation for the next few months if not a year or more.

Such a fallout from kidnapping one pathetic, insignificant human! The vampires' rage couldn't have been deeper...or their hands more tied.

Fynira let all that information process within their heads before she calmly went on, not ruffled or phased by any of this in the least as she stood between the two parties in more ways than one. "Judging by his state of health and being found on your land, surrounded by your people, I would wager he might be tempted to lodge a complaint and demand trial from your Coven." She waved her hand slightly, fire flickering between her fingertips casually. "It would likely turn into a messy investigation, your two cases would tie into each other seeing as Warren IS this human's Guardian and her presence here at all is rather...funny, and I imagine the whole process would take up far more time than it's worth."

A dark orange brow rose, fiery eyes meeting those of the pale vampire directly. "So I ask you again; is a trial really what you want?"
 
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Cleodora, if anything, was in awe of the orange haired woman who took charge of the situation with confidence and ease. While Cleo did have some nerve in her, she could barely manage to put up the forefront of the proud character without the urge of having to pee her pants or puke up her guts. Her previous outburst could be considered brave, but really she wouldn't have done such a thing if it were just her and the monster of a woman before the group. While she did have some pride in herself, she realized that she probably wasn't capable of taking the crazy woman down on her own.

The previous monster she had taken out being a fluke or pure luck, much like the moments where you make a basket or score a goal without even intentionally trying. It was one of those things that happened only once or twice in your life, and the young artist wasn't about to try to stretch her lucky anymore. Especially since these things moved faster than her eyes could register, and therefore ticking them off enough wasn't a great idea. Though she was almost positive that she was safe with her current companions, one could never be too safe. While she wasn't helpless, she sure wasn't strong enough compared to these people.

Thus the youngest Squier shut her mouth.

The older vampiric lady did no such thing, quite the opposite in fact. As a coven leader for an outstanding amount of years as well as a long lived immortal, her ego had grown largely. Instead of shutting her mouth and glowering as the people left like an intelligent being she was supposed to be, she decided to part in more bitter terms.

"Take the little roaches," she hissed venomously, much like a slithering snake for her fangs glinted slightly for the moon light glanced over them. Her warning seemed more like a threat, "The Petrova Coven does not take such injuries lying down though." Her eyes shined brightly for a moment. "He," she emphasized the first word addressing a person unknown to Cleo, "shall know about this occurrence. Nor will he look upon it with patience or mercy."

Although intelligence was not her strong point, the woman seemed to maintain a bit of common sense to know that this battle would be pointless to fight. While she had more numbers on her side, she could not easily take down the WPA agents without leaving large damage to her clan, nor did she have the ability to cover up such a thing even if it were to happen.

Backing down could be a sign of weakness or cowardliness, which would not be good to be seen in a leader. It could cause dispute within her coven, and thus result in the challenging of her position as coven head along with her possible annihilation. Though losing the title without losing her life would be more humiliating than being assassinated.

The woman glared hatefully at Cleo and Warren before making the better of the two bad choices, turning her back to the group, and readying herself to leave. A list of unresolved questions rung through the girl's mind. Mainly about who this, 'he' character was, but it was for another time. The tolls of the day were all too tiring for her, and she had Warren who was still highly injured despite his current ability to look menacing nonetheless.

Menacing.

Yes, Warren looked quite vicious in Cleo's eyes. He looked so beastly, it almost made her shudder. While she felt the slightest bit of fear, it could also be brushed off by the fact that she was indeed surrounded by people who lit stuff on fire with seemingly no actual fire starting tools, a man who could transform into a giant dog, and a handful of people who could easily squash and bleed her. His nails were inhumanly, sharp pinpoints that seemed scary to even look at. While the whole prospect was deathly frightening for her, it was not something she had much time to dwell on because they were once more moving towards the cars.
 
The group had almost reached the two armored trucks that had brought them here when Warren collapsed completely. There was no threat to Cleo anymore, nothing to fight, no one to stand against and the adrenaline had long since given up its hold on him, letting exhaustion and pain sink their claws in. The two Elementals who had been supporting him cursed as the werewolf's legs gave out and then they were being surrounded, hands helping to lift Warren even as more flurries of activity were seeing a stretching pulled out of the back of a truck. It took some careful maneuvering to get the werewolf on the prone surface as they had to put him on his stomach instead of his back. It was too badly damaged for them to risk the pressure and abrasion of contact with the mattress.

Once he was securely in the back of the truck, Fynira pulled Cleo in as well whether the human wanted to be in this truck or not. Right now she was less concerned with what the young woman wanted than she was with what Warren NEEDED. If he'd gone into a vampires' nest to get this human than it was clear she was important to him and he'd want her near. The last thing Fynira wanted was the werewolf growing uncontrollably panicked because he couldn't see the person he'd been willing to risk a fate worse than death to rescue.

Now, whether Warren was actually Guarding Cleo...Fynira didn't know, but she hadn't been about to announce that to the bloodsuckers back there. She'd get to the bottom of what this human was to the werewolf soon enough, but for now the most important thing was to stabilize him before he went into shock...if he'd not already.

The medics of the group, a male with yellow hair called Zephnir and a female with light red hair named Attira, were already working on Warren and the werewolf's claws were digging into the mattress beneath him, leaving deep tears. Fynira didn't hesitate to reach out and touch his arm, her fingers moving to his hand as his glazed gray eyes met her fiery ones. "Breathe, War. We'll fix you up, get you to the hospital. You'll be all right." she soothed gently, but the werewolf whimpered.

It was for more reason than the cleaning that was being done to his raw, broken back.

"N-no. I-I don't...d-don't want to...go th-there." He could barely speak and Fynira silently cursed the bloodsuckers once more, wanting nothing more than to go back and roast them all, but she settled herself to trying to talk some sense into her friend. Oh, Warren might not call her the same - she'd never heard him call anyone a friend - but she knew he trusted her to keep him safe at least, to do her job and in Fynira's eyes, that made them friends. She treated Warren as such even if the werewolf was too much of a lone wolf to truly accept the extended invitation.

The Elemental's slender fingers brushed back damp and red-stained blond hair where it clung to his face, gentle and soothing. She knew Warren needed it, even if he'd never ask. Too self-sacrificing for his own good. "You know you have to, War. It's the safest place for you and for your human."

At the mention of Cleo, Fynira saw Warren's eyes instantly seek her out, his body radiating tension so that the medics paused in their work, knowing that such violent shaking and focus from a werewolf could be dangerous if they were provoked. But gray eyes found Cleo inside the truck and a sobbing kind of whimper containing relief went through Warren before the rigidness faded out of him again and the pain was all-consuming once more.

"No. N-not safe. Spy."

Fynira's eyes instantly narrowed, looking from the human to Warren for a moment before she nodded very slowly. "All right. I'll take you to the safe house." She'd never known Warren to be wrong before and she would not doubt him now if he said there was a spy within WPA. The Elemental touched his forehead as the werewolf gave a long whine of pain, pale and trembling as Zephnir and Attira finally finished their makeshift bandages on his back and instead started to examine the blistered skin of his neck and wrists.

"Shh, little cub. It won't hurt so much soon." Fynira soothed before her fiery eyes flickered to Cleo, not hostile, not accusing, merely questioning. "What is your name, human? And how did you come to find yourself such an esteemed guest of the Petrova Coven?"
 
When Warren collapsed, Cleo nearly jumped out of her skin. Her first thought was that he just dropped dead, and her heart sunk while her chest felt as though it was being crushed under some extremely large and uncomfortable weight. Tears prickled at the sides of her eyes as her mouth dropped open. It just couldn't be.

True that that last statement, he was not dead, and she felt the slightest bit relieved, but the realization that he was indeed pushing the limits of defying death was absolutely terrifying. Everything happened in a relative blur, rushing into cars and going this way and that. She had somehow managed to cram herself into a far corner, watching with horrified eyes on the people that worked so hurriedly on the male werewolf.

She should have been the one to comfort him with soothing words, or at least the one to try, but she could not seem to let the words slip out of her mouth. For whatever reason, the leader of the fiery haired people had taken that place, trying to provide some comfort for the human's friend that seemed in so little pain considering his injuries. The work they were doing on him gave her full view of his destroyed back, and if she hadn't already puked up everything she had in her stomach, she would have done it right then and there.

As they started wrapping up his back, his eyes had met hers and a broken sound ripped through his lips. It resounded through her ears for a while, and when he looked away, she felt so heartbroken for him. She knew the pain was beyond excruciating, and she wondered how exactly he had managed to stay alive. Such abuse should have sent anyone straight to the cemetery.

She found herself pressing back further into the corner of the truck, eyes fastening to anywhere else but her dear friend. She didn't know if she could handle anymore of the sickening smells of blood as well as the horrific sights she had so recently witnessed. He had denied a hospital, and while she wanted to demand he visit one, she really didn't have any power over his choices. That and having a fight with him right at this moment over something as such probably wouldn't be the greatest ideas of all times.

A voice had called Cleo out of her reverie that she had fallen into.

While the voice was not accusing nor hostile, Cleo did not feel quite comfortable with answering such a thing. She had gotten herself into trouble without considering the major consequences. Though she had never assumed Warren as being one of the repercussions of her attempting to help her crazy uncle. If anything, Warren should have been out and doing something different since he had agreed to respect her wishes. Deep down though, she was damn near blaming herself, and with reason for it was her fault.

"Cleodora Squier. And they- I- uh," she stuttered helplessly. "Well, they. Errrr. They kidnapped me." It was the truth, although a tad bit vague.
 
Fynira, who up until this point had been willing to be patient, narrowed her eyes almost instantly at Cleo's answer. She knew very well avoidance when she heard it and while she tolerated it from Warren, she was not interested in doing the same for Cleo - who in her mind responsible for this. Oh, she'd not say as much and she'd treat the human politely, but Fynira only had to look at the werewolf to feel anger bubbling up within her. Everyone knew Warren had been injured recently. To see him in such a state again did not sit well with them - it wouldn't sit well with many in WPA, anyone who knew him.

For someone who didn't like contact, kept to himself and didn't really try to make friends, he had a lot of people who wouldn't hesitate to come if he called. But Warren was like that; helping, self-sacrificing, always willing to listen, never judging and often comforting. He gave and gave, but by some twist of fate, never seemed to feel he deserved anything anyone tried to give him in return.

To those within WPA, it only endeared him to them and whether Warren liked it or not, everyone had a wordless pact to try and look out for him. It was that care that was making Fynira so suspicious and abrupt right now as she spoke again, far less lenient. "Yes, we are aware they kidnapped you. That part we had figured out. Don't play stupid with me. Why did they kidnap you? What did you do?"

"Fynira!"

Warren's voice was a snarl, savage in its intensity and the Elemental immediately looked to him...and then immediately looked away at the feral light in his blue-gray eyes. The werewolf had surged upward, forcing Zephnir and Attira to move back away from him and now he was almost crouched on the stretcher, fangs half-bared and every muscle quivering with pain, but delayed action as well. It wasn't the way he was ready to spring that had made Fynira avert her eyes, though, but rather the expression in his gaze.

It was much too animal-like to reason with and so she didn't challenge him with a stare and the Elemental carefully moved away from the stretcher and subsequently away from Cleo. Warren's growl had grown in intensity at the movement, but it lowered as she gave space and then the rumble died away completely, leaving nothing but the sound of the truck's engine...and then the werewolf's voice once more.

"You will not speak to her like that."

"Warren-" Fynira started calmly, hoping to make him see that questioning was needed, prepared to promise to be nicer, but the werewolf's voice once more contained a growl.

"No! She is mine and you will not speak to her that way."

Fynira's were not the only ones that widened, the Elementals in the truck looking at each other and Fynira nodded slowly, understanding igniting in her eyes, her demeanor almost instantly changing. "All right. I understand, War. I'm sorry." She did hold the werewolf's eyes this time and the blond slowly let the tension seep out of him, seeing that she truly did understand....and then he weaved and would have fallen if not for Attira and Zephnir being prepared for just that, helping him down.

This time they injected him with a sedative and even as they did, Fynira looked to Cleo again, this time with new speculation, but less hostility. She sighed. "I'm sorry for my abruptness. I just...Warren is a friend, at least to me, and I don't like seeing him in such a way. I'd like nothing more than to make those vampires pay for what they did, but first I need information. So....perhaps you might tell me why the wanted you?"
 
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