Transformation

[Acorn]

Leon continued to sip on his drink as Rita went into the same mode she had when she'd fluttered from one group to another at the ball, talking easily with billionaires who practically owned the whole goddamned city the facility was in. She spoke more formally, held herself more carefully, and he saw Orvar respond to that. The man sat up straighter and listened to her raptly as she spoke, never taking his eyes from her. It wasn't until she was finished talking that he saw Orvar move again, and it was like watching one of those slow motion videos of a dormant seed coming to life and pushing forth new green growth; he unfurled and stood, then went to the small table that held his various decanters and returned with the one that had scotch and refilled Leon's glass.

"You've been most forthcoming," he said, and Leon recognized that there was admiration in his voice, and was that relief? "When it comes to matters such as these, it's best to avoid dancing around until we all grow dizzy." Relief, then. He moved away to return the scotch to its original spot, then moved back to his chair and sat. "I shall be just as forthcoming. I already knew of your story. I heard whispers of a guard and her ward escaping from their shared prison and I hoped to meet you. I had even sent people out to lead you to me, but you arrived before they even made contact." He chuckled and was still smiling as he leaned back and draped his forearms over the arms of his chair, as at ease as a king on his throne.

Leon slid his fingers over to Rita's where they remained on his knee, and he then rested his palm there and curled his fingers around her hand.

This was it. This guy was for real.

"I too am an ex-Enforcer, though I didn't do much enforcing, more… Directing the program as a whole. I had a vision, one where we were able to coexist with humans peacefully. I instated the tracking program, but there were enough in the organization who saw fit to use it beyond its original purpose that a vote was held and I was no longer directing more than the handful who shared my views."

"We have grown well beyond that since we now focus on taking in the huddled masses yearning to breathe free. In the same spirit as the dear lady, we are more than happy to host both you and your young friends. Consider New Orleans and the surrounding area your new home for as long as you need."

"Just like that?" Leon asked, the first words he'd spoken since he'd entered the man's home, and Orvar slid his eyes over to him, but Leon had just enough alcohol in him that he didn't shy away from the man's stare. A moment passed, then another, and then Orvar winked.

"Yes, just like that. There is no catch. Well, beyond the photographs you agreed to. We mustn't forget those."

Leon took another drink and tried to keep his expression blank, but Orvar laughed throatily. "Oh, don't worry. I promise it'll be painless and once it's over, you'll have lasting proof of your love for one another, hmm?"

He wasn't sure how a picture could accomplish that, but he wasn't eager to have Orvar's eyes on him again so he remained silent.

Orvar looked to Rita once more, his eyebrows raised. "Have I met our terms to your satisfaction or do you have more questions before we proceed?"

 

[Meraki]

Orvar was an ex-enforcer, too.

That made her feel a lot better.

He'd directed the program for coexistence but it mutated into something much darker. It was a bit funny because Rita remembered Jenny trying to sell her on the Enforcers and she had used almost those exact same words "peaceful coexistence" but now Rita knew better. When she wasn't blinded by her grief and need to have purpose, she saw through that guise and understood that Jenny didn't want equality or peace. Jenny wanted soldiers, humans and supernaturals alike who would do her bidding. Rita was happy to have Orvar as an ally, then, especially when he gave them his protection with nothing but her word.

The two of them seemed to have an unspoken understanding. Something that came from leadership, she guessed, where they understood the plight and purpose of the other. Orvar only looked onto her with eyes of admiration and she was hardly hostile towards him. She felt Leon's hand slip through hers as Orvar winked at him. No catch save for the photographs and Rita felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Her biggest fear was returning to the hotel room that night and telling Becca and Nate that there was nothing for them here. While Nate would probably still snap at her, she knew it would ease the anxiety that Becca felt about the whole thing. Her dreams wouldn't be crushed, she could follow through with her mother's wishes.

Until they could get her mother out, at least.

"I am sure I'll think of something later," Rita smiled, a light joke as she finished off her scotch and turned to him, her posture quite a bit more open and welcoming. Not that it wasn't before but there was an air of formality and with Orvar's approval, she felt the ability to let her hair down, or so to speak. "Lead the way, photographs it is." Rita stood and kept Leon's hand in hers as they followed him up the grand stairs of his home.

There were plenty of questions Rita had, but she was beginning to put together answers for herself. He said that he wanted to live with humans which meant that he was a supernatural creature – not a witch or a werewolf – and while Rita had her guesses she kept to herself until Orvar wished to reveal himself to them. That was the only way to build real trust and Rita was all about genuine relationships. She would never be like Jenny, who made contacts for the sake of benefit. Rita cared, almost to a fault, about people and could not be swayed to think otherwise. She supposed that's why they went from just Leon and Rita to a little make-shift family of four.

"Your home is beautiful, did you decorate it yourself?" Rita asked, knowing that her mother would literally die at the high class southern décor. She'd always wanted a house like this, not that Rita's family home was small by any means. Hardly, but this was what her mother wanted. Southern mothers always seemed to want everything they couldn't have, but simultaneously defended what they had. It was a funny little back and forth.

 

[Acorn]

"You're kind, but no; it came decorated. I've only lived in New Orleans a short time. Prior to this, I lived at the very top of an absurdly high skyscraper." He glanced back at them as he followed the curve of the stairs upwards, his hand caressing the dark wooden railing as he went. "I much prefer it here, closer to the ground."

After they crested the stairs and stepped onto the second level, Orvar gave them a brief history of the home, mentioning that it'd been built in 1867, exactly 150 years ago, and had spent some of its existence as a fancy boarding house.

"There are so many rooms I don't know what to do with them all," Orvar admitted as they walked through another long hallway filled with doors, some closed, but others opened and revealing more of the same cream colored and dark wooden antique furniture, and at least three rooms that he'd seen had beds in them. "If you wish, your group may stay here until you locate a residence of your own. If, that is, you decide to make New Orleans a home rather than a staging ground."

So not only was he offering them protection, he was willing to let them move into his home after they'd just met? And he wanted nothing in return but the ability to take pictures of them? Leon was suspicious of the offer and of the man's intentions in general, but Rita's hand was relaxed in his and when he looked at her, she didn't seem concerned. He'd been wrong about Becca, insisted that she'd made up her sob story, but Rita had believed her and Rita had been right.

Maybe it was worth giving Orvar the benefit of the doubt, too.

Leon cleared his throat. "That's uh... That's a real nice offer," he said. "Gonna have to talk about it first, though."

"Oh, of course. Do let me know when you decide," Orvar said, and Leon was relieved when he let the subject drop. Though perhaps it had something to do with them finally arriving at their destination.

They entered another room set up similarly to the room they'd talked and had scotch in, but the similarities ended at the matching couch, chairs and coffee table; there were photographs and paintings covering almost every inch of the walls, all framed and organized in a way that still managed to be appealing and naturally pulled his attention from one grouping to the next.

"This room I decorated," Orvar said laughingly.

"Did you take all these?" Leon asked, going to inspect one of the walls more closely.

"Mmhm, the paintings are mine as well." Orvar took a seat and shifted so he was leaning one elbow into an armrest and held his chin in his cupped hand as he watched their reactions. "I have more, many more, but I never could figure out how to attach them to the ceiling with any success."

There were only pictures of people on the wall he'd moved to, some black and white and some in color, but there were others that were a washed out shade of brown – in those, all the men were in suits, and the women wore elaborate dresses. One woman, in particular, drew his attention because her face was pretty, but severe, her cheekbones high and her lips full but unsmiling. Her dark hair was up and she had an elaborately feathered hat pinned to her head. Her dress left only her face and hands exposed.

"I don't understand. You said you took these?"

"I did."

"But some of them are old, really old, and that looks like..."

Orvar didn't move from where he sat, but he did lower his hand to look at the picture Leon had taken a step back from and was pointing at.

"Ah, Jenny, yes. She wasn't always a doctor," he said. "She was a madame in that photograph, believe it or not. I helped her establish a brothel in Seattle in the 80s."

Leon stared at him, his brow creased and his mouth open, then shook his head and spluttered when Orvar added with a sly smile, "The 1880s. I don't think I could've tolerated Seattle in its grunge days."

 

[Meraki]

His offer to remain in his home was a kind one, but Rita left it at Leon's comment. She had no idea what they wanted to do, but it would have to be a decision among their little rag tag group. If Becca and Nate wanted to stay here, they were welcome, but Rita also knew they weren't done with the facility yet. There were too many supernaturals that needed their help. She couldn't just sit quietly by in New Orleans for the rest of her life pretending that the problem didn't exist.

Rita stepped into Orvar's photography room, but it did not seem like a befitting name. No, it was filled with photographs and paintings alike. Most were portraits but they varied across the ages and Alice found herself lost in them a bit as Leon and Orvar chatted. Chase was an architect by trade, so Rita had gone to a great number of art gallery galas and openings. She never had much of an eye for it before Chase tried to get her involved. He would take her by the arm, show her about the room and point out the nuances of each piece and why, exactly, they were so special. He preferred landscapes, but it was clear Orvar preferred portraiture and they were beautiful. Breathtaking, even.

"Some of these are early Renaissance, aren't they?" Rita asked as she slipped back alongside Leon and slipped her hand around his arm to hold onto him casually.

"Jenny?" she broke out of her thoughts to take a look at the photograph the men had pointed at. It was definitely Jenny, but there was something unmistakably cold about her. The 1880's? All it took was that one comment to solidify Rita's hunch about Orvar, Jenny and the creature they encountered in the warehouse. "So she's a vampire, too?" Rita asked, being straightforward as Orvar asked but there wasn't an ounce of accusation to her tone. It was a simple observation, Rita's mind making connections, and she turned to him with the same pleasant look on her face. Supernaturals didn't faze her much anymore. She had told Leon once of her inklings about vampires before but she never had any concrete proof. This was the most she would ever get, she supposed, so she glanced up at Orvar.

"Why portraiture?" she asked, genuinely interested, "You seem to have a pretty eclectic collection of faces. Is it the complexity of faces that interests you?"

 

[Acorn]

Leon didn't take his eyes off Orvar, even when Rita came over and held onto his arm. Rita was handling the news that he was a vampire like she'd handle hearing there was a chance of rain: she'd grabbed her raincoat and continued on her way. Was she seriously asking after his art like it didn't matter? Oh, you eat people for a living, that's nice. Lovely paintings. That's really all he knew of Orvar's kind — they ate people. And apparently could live a long fucking time, given that Jenny had been around for at least a hundred years learning how best to be a coldhearted bitch.

With his eyes narrowed, Leon stepped in front of Rita, blocking her from Orvar's view and the vampire sat up and met Leon's stare with a smile that rankled.

"Ah, it's a pity we weren't already in my studio. Your expression, the look in your eyes when you stand between a perceived threat and the woman you love without hesitation, that is why I prefer portraiture; it is the essence of a person forever preserved."

He broke eye contact with Leon to look upon his hand where his fingers made smoothing motions over the fabric of the chair's armrest. His eyes flicked back up and he began speaking again, but Leon didn't register the warm and even tone of the man's voice, and barely registered his words over the sound of his pounding heart reverberating around in his skull.

"But rest assured, I wish no harm upon either of you."

"Bullshit. Your kind hunts people, drinks their blood. Is that why you fucking invited us to live with you, so you could have something to eat? One we met attacked us, tried to eat her, tried to eat me too, but—"

"You taste terrible," Orvar interrupted, then took a breath in the face of Leon's scowl and elaborated: "Werewolves—the curse taints your blood; it tastes terrible, but I digress. If you were attacked by a vampire as you say, it couldn't have been old. Fledglings have little control of their urges. It takes time to acquire that ability, and I am very old. You have nothing to worry about."

Leon scoffed, but then Rita's fingers slid between his, and he sighed. Her action had immediately taken an edge off his anger, but he was still uncomfortable with the idea of her being in the same room as someone who drank human blood. He wouldn't be able to shift quickly enough to keep him off her if he decided he did wish harm upon her. The vampire that'd attacked them back near the facility, if he'd been young like Orvar suggested, had still been fast and strong enough to evade him when he'd been shifted, so what chance did he even have against one that was older?

Orvar could take her from him and he wouldn't be able to do a fucking thing about it.

"I'll give you a moment," Orvar said quietly, then stood from his chair. "Please join me in my studio in the next room once you're ready." Leon stiffened as he walked by them to pass through an open door at their backs.

"Rita," he said, turning so he could look at her, his expression mingled concern and distress, "we should go."

 

[Meraki]

Rita understood Leon's apprehension.

The way she saw it, Orvar would have taken her out a long time ago. In a city that was probably crawling with supernatural life, he seemed to be the most together. The way he held himself reminded her vaguely of Jenny but there was a warmth to him that Jenny never had, a sheer appreciation for form and expression, but more than that Rita was a good gauge of motivation. If he wanted to kill her, he would have, and if he just wanted her as a snack he wouldn't have approached them both at the bar. It was easy, in fact, to find Rita outside of Leon that day because she had spent the majority of the day and night roaming around streets like an alley cat looking for scraps.

It almost unnerved her, though, to see Leon step in front of her with such powerful posture. Immediately something snapped in her mind and she saw Chase, the woman, and the werewolf. It wasn't the same, but it was the same instinct and she felt her heart thud painfully in her chest. Her expression waiver for a moment, before she managed to pull herself together and engage in the conversation.

"Leon…" she said but her voice was lost in the conversation. The two went back and forth until Orvar took his leave politely and left for his studio. It left Rita and Leon alone and she exhaled as he turned around. There was distress there, she could see it, and her hand came up to trace the lines of his cheekbone in an attempt to ease the furrowed nature of his brow.

"He's Becca and Nate's only hope," Rita said finally, "he isn't going to harm any of you and if he wanted to hurt me, he could have easily already done so. I was walking around the whole city today by myself trying to track someone from the group down. He could have easily picked me off."

"But he didn't. That thing – that vampire we saw in the warehouse? If what he says is true about age, then Orvar has to be at least 600 years old if not more, he's very clearly in control."

"I know you want to protect me from everything and I love you for it," Rita said as she took his hands in her own, "I really do Leon. But he's not going to hurt me anymore than you are, any more than Becca or Nate are. Could you imagine how good this could be for them? Becca to know other witches, for Nate to be able to talk with other werewolves, for you to have a safe space to maybe teach him a thing or two? If we run out on this now, where do we go? Every day that passes means there are more and more Enforcers out there tracking us down and if they find us?"

"I would take my odds with Orvar long before I'd take my odds with Lorelei, and I think you would too," she admitted quietly. It was true, though. Back at the facility? There was a hell waiting for them like they had never experienced before and Lorelei was a dark and powerful witch. She had already broken them down into nothing and she knew that, given the chance, she would do it again – but this time, it would be slow. Jenny never came off as vengeful to Rita, but Rita did not put it past her to rally the troops against them. Jenny liked what was hers and she liked order.

This? This was not order and it needed to be stopped.

"I know I keep asking you to make these unbelievable choices, but the truth is, Leon, we're never safe. Not anymore and in order to find safety we have to be willing to take some risks. This is one of those risks. Please."

 

[Acorn]

Leon tilted his face into her caress and closed his eyes, but the lines in his brow only deepened as she spoke. She wanted to reassure him with the knowledge that if Orvar had wanted to hurt her, he would've already — just like Jenny had told him as they stood in the center of a ring of Enforcers that if she'd wanted him dead, he would've already been dead. Why did they continually end up in situations where the only thing keeping them alive was another person's mercy?

He looked down at her hands supporting his larger ones, then back up with a startled blink when she mentioned his desire to protect her. Yes, he did want to protect her from everything; he wanted nothing more than to walk her out of Orvar's mansion and disappear into a secluded forest cabin and let the world and every fucking thing that was wrong with it pass them by. They would be safe there. Rita would be safe. But what about Nate and Becca? In the short time they'd all been together, they'd formed a unit, a family of sorts, and he realized with a start that when he thought about disappearing with Rita, they were there, too.

They could find a big cabin, then, where they could all stay.

But Rita was right. Who would teach Becca how to harness her powers? And how would they keep Nate safe during his next full moon? Even if they took themselves out of the world, they still needed what it offered, and who was to say they wouldn't be found and then what? They'd be an ex-Enforcer, an untrained witch, and two werewolves (and one of them couldn't even shift freely). Maybe Rita could work with Nate, teach him how to use guns, but with all the supernatural creatures they knew about now, he didn't know it'd do much good.

They couldn't live off half-baked dreams and what-if scenarios; they needed to do the best they could with what they had, and right now that was Orvar.

"You just killed my last ditch attempt to get out pictures," he said and chuckled, but he regarded her steadily as he freed one of his hands so he could hold one side of her face, brushing his thumb against her cheek. He'd reached a point where he couldn't imagine a life without her in it, and when he tried, it made his throat clench up and his eyes sting. Maybe it wasn't reasonable to expect that he could keep her safe from everything, but he'd try his best. If that meant temporary risk for permanent gain, then he'd just have to be all the more vigilant. His hand grew still and he leaned down to catch her lips with his in a tenderly slow kiss. When he pulled back, he was smiling crookedly and he cleared his throat.

"Shouldn't keep him waiting anymore, I guess," he said, and led her into the room Orvar had disappeared into.

For some reason — maybe it was all the vintage photography he'd looked at — Leon had imagined the room would have one of those old-time cameras and Orvar would have to duck under a dark sheet, then there'd be an explosion of light and he'd come out to retrieve a single photograph, but it didn't. The room was stark and white, with a tripod at its center and atop it a very expensive looking digital camera. Next to it was a stand with a large flat-screen computer monitor with a spot for a mouse on it, and Orvar was busy navigating screen after screen, clicking and adjusting settings as he went.

If Orvar really was over six centuries old and wasn't afraid of technology, what excuse did his grandmother have?

"Perfect timing," Orvar announced and turned to meet them with a beaming smile. Now that Leon was paying attention, he noticed that the man's canine teeth were longer and pointier than a human's, and he wondered how he hadn't noticed them before. "Please, go stand near the backdrops. There's a piece of tape that marks your spot. I still have some adjustments to make."

Just as promised, there was a piece of masking tape on the ground and he stood with Rita while Orvar moved back and forth from his monitor, camera, and the multitude of lights stationed around them. There were umbrella shaped lights up on arms that he moved up and down, then smaller lights closer to the ground with flaps that he lifted and lowered in tiny increments.

Once he was satisfied, he returned to his camera and began what ended up being the arduous process of looking natural with Rita, which meant pretending that there weren't constant blasts of light going off and instructions being rapid-fired at them, most directed at Leon and paired with frustrated sighs and mutterings in some language he'd never heard before.

"You're beautiful," Orvar said at one point, "but disappointingly stiff. I'm not here, forget me. There is only Rita. Look at her, hold her. Not so– Just, no. Relax and look at her, Leon. Look at her."

His gaze found hers and Orvar's voice faded, as did the lights. He stared into her big green eyes and even the air in his lungs stopped moving as his breath caught in his throat. Did she know how strikingly green her eyes were? Probably. How could you not know what your eyes looked like? He smiled as he remembered the line of thought he'd had the very first time he'd met her, when he'd been sitting on the cold concrete floor and she'd entered his containment unit with a first aid kit and a strong desire to help.

"That's it," he dimly heard Orvar say.

The night air was warm and lightning bugs bobbed about drunkenly when they left Orvar's residence, and Leon handed Rita the manila envelope that contained dozens of photos along with a single flash drive before he slipped an arm around her shoulders.

 

[Meraki]

Rita pulled the pictures out as the walked and hummed in contentment with Leon's arm around her shoulders. Illuminated by fireflies, Rita held up one of the pictures and smiled a bright smile. "I love this one," Rita admitted as she held out one of the photos of them standing together, not facing the camera but each other, and she was certain that Orvar captured their love. The way that they looked at one another, it reminded her of the way her heart soared when Leon was around, and she wanted to keep it always. "Someday, you'll have to hold your laughter," she admitted finally, "when you see my parents' house. Having a pageant queen for a mother means a lot of terrible headshots throughout the years. I'm not sure if I was born photogenic or I just learned because I was sick of having them nitpicked."

"This is the best picture I've ever taken," she pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I'm glad we have this. Someday we'll have somewhere to put it."

It was hard not having anywhere to call home, but she held onto the belief that they would find one again. Until then, they had each other, and that was enough.

When they made it back to the hotel, Becca was splayed out on the bed watching movies while Nate was brooding in the chair. The shades were open as he looked out on New Orleans and the mouth of the Mississippi River. Becca bounded up immediately and asked them how their night out was and Rita sat on the edge of the bed to peel her heels off and pick at one of Becca's leftover french fries from dinner. They were still warm, too. "So, we didn't exactly go out to dinner," Rita said finally, "We met with someone from the rogue group, their leader, actually."

"Surprise, surprise, the ex-enforcer lies," Nate commented, but Rita ignored it and continued for Becca's sake who seemed genuinely interested. "We have their protection, we are going to get in contact with him over the next few days, but it seems like we're going to stay in New Orleans a while. Other witches, werewolves, and vampires all living together."

"Vampires?" Becca's eyes went wide.

"Orvar, their leader," she explained, "over six hundred years old, he was the one we met with. He's an ex-enforcer too, their first director before the Enforcers became what we know them as. Their original goal was to help humans and supernaturals live in harmony, and then when he was voted out, they changed into this – a force to track and register supernaturals."

"This is bullshit," Nate huffed and finally looked at her, "You're telling me we came all this way to listen to a guy who created the Enforcers? Real fucking nice, but what's stopping us from getting taken? You said we're protected, but it doesn't feel like it."

"There are werewolves in this city who can help you Nate, and other witches, too. These people can be a lot of help."

"You mean supernaturals," Nate scoffed, "don't act like we're people to you."

"Nate," Becca said finally, her voice gentle, "Stop, please."

"It's just bullshit, you know? You just sit here and make all these calls like you're the one affected by them. Going out to talk to vampires, thinking you know anything about what we go through as werewolves, what Becca has to do to control her powers – you don't know jack shit. All you know is how to track people and shoot a gun. A gun, might I add, you don't even have the balls to shoot at someone."

"Nate," she said finally, "I know I'm not—"

"No, I don't think you do," Nate shook his head, "I don't think you understand what it is to be one of us, to endure what we have to endure, to experience what we experience. You have no idea the kind of losses supernaturals have suffered at the hands of the facility."

If only he knew.

"Fine," Rita stood up, knowing when she couldn't get through to someone. She pushed herself standing and started towards the door to head back into her and Leon's room.

"Go ahead and leave. Keep acting all noble like you know shit about supernaturals just because you're fucking one."

 

[Acorn]

Leon had remained near the door, leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, because he wanted to be ready to leave the second Rita finished explaining the situation to Becca and Nate. They'd need to rustle up some grub at some point, but beyond that, the night was theirs. If they wanted, they could hole up in their room until the sun peeked through the curtains and Becca came knocking on their door demanding to hit the city again. Second to the rooster he'd lived next door to growing up, she was the worst alarm clock he'd ever had — she never obeyed his drowsy commands to just stop and go away, but at least she didn't start crowing at three o'clock in the morning.

He listened to Becca's excitement and Nate's anger, realizing that the latter was echoing some of the concerns he'd had at the vampire's mansion but unlike him, Rita's words were doing nothing to console him. Leon didn't think Nate wanted to hear Rita, because if he heard her, then he wouldn't have anything to be angry about. Anger had served him well too when he'd been younger: it'd drowned the voices that clamored to be heard, stilled his crippling doubts and kept the sorrow away. As soon as he let the anger go, he had to grapple with the possibility his mother had abandoned him because he wasn't worth loving, his grandmother had only stepped in to raise him out of obligation, and that anyone he grew to love would find out how fucked up he was and run just like his mother had. It'd been hell, but he'd eventually put aside the anger long enough to start patching himself up properly, so he could live a life not twisted into a rage.

He'd tolerated Nate's nearly constant attacks on Rita because she'd insisted on handling him herself, and he trusted that she was capable of deflecting the barbs of an eighteen-year-old who seemed content to dump all his issues at her feet instead of dealing with them, but with his last comment, Leon pushed himself from the wall.

"You're outta line," he said, and moved towards Nate, who stood from his chair and planted his feet with a stubborn tilt of his head as Leon closed the short space between them. "You've been outta line for a while now and I haven't said shit because Rita asked me not to. I ain't doing it anymore." He gestured behind him to Rita without turning to look at her, and as he continued talking, his voice hit a volume that would be heard through the paper thin walls of the hotel room. "Rita got a goddamned deal set up. Rita made it so you are safe. Why is it so fucking hard for you to just say thank you? Because she used to be an Enforcer? Get the fuck over it."

 

[Meraki]

Becca went to stand as Leon approached Nate. She knew his last comment was out of line, but Rita knew she couldn't say anything. If she said something to Nate, it would only solidify who he thought she was. No, she had to stand back and let Leon talk to him. She saw his eyes when they'd first met and he saw Leon shift back, Nate respected him even if he didn't act like it. Nate was just scared, too angry for his own good, but that manifested in attacks on her. Rita was the closest thing to an Enforcer he could cut down. She couldn't even imagine that burden of being so young, a werewolf, and losing both of your parents in a span of six months.

"Let them be," Rita said to Becca quietly and felt the girl take a step back to stand a bit behind Rita. She had never heard Leon raise his voice like that, not once. He was always so goofy, so calm and kind. Maybe it was because all the times she saw his anger, it was in a near-death situation and he immediately transformed. But this wasn't near death, this was Leon, the man, standing up to Nate, a much smaller man.

"Did I hit a nerve?" Nate growled as he stepped in Leon's face, "You want me to thank her for doing the least she owes people like us? We shouldn't be running in the first place. If people like her got their heads out of their asses, then maybe something would change."

"I'm not gonna get the fuck over it because I'm only in this fucking mess because people like her thought they were saving the god damn world by ruining ours. That doesn't change. She's in control, that's the difference. I can't control this fucking curse, you can't change yours, Becca can't get rid of her powers, but she chose all of this shit. What kind of boring ass pageant life did you live before this, huh? Only got involved with supernaturals because you pitied us?"

"She's the one who should watch her fucking back," Nate growled, his anger working up into a rage as everything bubbled up inside him. Rita knew the anger was coming from somewhere else, but his words were sharp. Almost too sharp for her to be okay with – to be honest, she felt incredibly small. "When those Enforcers find us, when she inevitably leads them to us, we're gonna get thrown in cells with chips in our fucking shoulders, but she's a traitor. Enforcers are fucked up but there's probably nothing as fucked up as what they do to people who betray them. Hell, I don't even know why you'd trust her – if she can just up and leave them, what makes you think she won't do the same to you? Or any of us?"

"Fuck," Nate breathed out as he stepped into Leon's space and let his eyes flicker to Rita, "I hope they fucking find her. I'll happily hand her over myself."

 

[Acorn]

When Nate stepped closer to him, Leon didn't retreat. He squared his shoulders, stood straighter, and looked down at Nate from his superior height, his mouth and nose twisted up like he'd smelled something foul. The little fucker was going to get in his face and spout that shit at him? Rita wasn't responsible for any of the things that'd happened to them. Except… she'd helped the Enforcers fund their research, expertly convincing billionaires to part with some of their money to keep the project going, hadn't she?

But she'd been duped. She knew now what they were all about and she wouldn't do it again, and it wasn't even the fucking point. Nate was just flinging shit, trying to see what would stick. He couldn't let any of it stick.

He stared at Nate as he continued running his mouth, his fists clenched at his sides. Some small part of him was surprised all his settings hadn't turned to max yet the way they usually did when he got as pissed as he was now, just before he either removed himself from a situation or went ahead and changed into his other form.

Nate began talking about what would happen to Rita if the Enforcers got ahold of her again — something he'd never even thought about. They'd still have a use for him, Nate, and Becca, but Rita? She'd betrayed them in a big way. Would that make them see her as too costly? What then? He blinked and jerked his head away to look over his shoulder at her, but barely had time to focus on her face before Nate made his final statement and something snapped in Leon.

Before he fully realized what he was doing, he'd rushed forward and caught Nate by the chest with his forearm and kept going until he had him smashed against the wall. A nearby picture rattled and then fell to the ground but Leon didn't even glance over at it.

He snarled at Nate, pressed his weight into him, pinning him where he stood.

"Don't you ever fucking threaten her again, you hear me?" There it was. He could hear the high-pitched electrical whining from the lights in the room, smell the remnants of their dinner, and could see Nate's pupil's dilating in his anger. He knew he should step back, take a breath, collect himself, but he brought his face close to Nate's.

"Should've left you in those woods," he said.

 

[Meraki]

Rita's heart stopped in her chest.

She prided herself on being a strong individual. She worked well with people and she made a living out of working in relations. Regardless of who it was for, Rita never faltered in that. She knew why Nate was saying the things he said and she understood that his words were just meant to be daggers to cut, but he'd thrown a couple that didn't just graze her, they sunk in hard. She knew what the Enforcers would do to her. She was more than aware, but they wouldn't just kill her. They would use her against Leon, drain her of her use until she was nothing and then kill her in front of him. Slowly.

She would be at the hands of Lorelei and Jenny for as long as they wanted.

But it wasn't about that. It wasn't about whether this was safe for her or not. It was about making things right, about making sure that Leon and Becca and even shit head Nate were safe from a group that manipulated her just the same. She was tempted, of course, to start laying out her own story to Nate but she knew he wouldn't hear it. Nothing that came out of her mouth was going to change what was going on in his mind.

Leon lunged for him, slammed him up against the wall and Rita could feel the palpable rage in the room. Becca shirked behind her, jumping at the sound of the picture and the escalation of the anger, but Rita just felt empty. For a moment she wondered if this all would have been better if she'd just broken Leon out and sent him home, protected him from the inside. She would have been hurt or killed, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with this – having an eighteen year old seed doubt in his mind.

Because Nate was right at the core of it all – Rita was an Enforcer and her primary job was to get funding for the company. It didn't matter that she was blind to their real actions, or that she was still so twisted with grief that Jenny manipulated her, or that she lost her fiancé and her partner to werewolves. None of that mattered because the fact was – she had done it. She chose to be an Enforcer.

And she hated herself every day for it, but Nate sent her a crippling reminder.

"Leon," Rita said, her voice gentle and even, though it was strikingly quiet in the tension that hung in the room. She did not say anything else, but instead turned to Becca and squeezed her hand affectionately as a loving goodnight. She just didn't have the words and she was exhausted. Slipping from the room, she took the pictures and stepped out, leaving the three to figure out what it was they wanted to do.

Rita was hardly ever anything but bubbly, so her disappearance sucked the life from the room. Nate scoffed as Leon still stood with his weight pressed against him, the anger billowing up inside. "You gonna run after her like a puppy, or what?" he shot back at Leon, "Looks like she can't handle reality."

-

Rita walked back towards the room and keyed in, immediately tossing her shoes off and setting the pictures down. She went straight for the mini bar and the bottle of whiskey she'd picked up their way to the hotel that afternoon to check in. She hardly thought she'd need it, but she opted for a few glasses. She reached back to unzip her dress but couldn't reach without Leon there, so she let out a defeated sigh and took a long gulp until it burned the way she wanted it to.

 

[Acorn]

Despite Rita calling his name, Leon remained where he stood, his arm holding Nate in place and his face close enough to the other werewolf's that he could feel the heat of his breath. The muscles of his jaw clenched as Rita left, but still, he remained, unsure what would happen if he stepped away now. With Nate pinned as he was, Leon had control of the situation, but as soon as he released him, the ball would be in Nate's court and if the motherfucker threw it in his face, he didn't know he'd be able to keep himself from hurting him.

"Leon." But it wasn't Rita calling him, it was Becca's sweet voice turned reedy and tremulous. "You're scaring me."

He took in a sharp breath and blinked. What was he doing? This wasn't him. He'd been raised to de-escalate and find ways around problems, not retreat behind raised fists and angry words. Not that he'd raised his fists to Nate. Not yet. He shook his head and shoved off Nate, but all his senses were still overtuned, so he still heard the exhalation that sounded something like a laugh after he'd stepped away from him.

He looked at the door and Nate, his mouth a thin line as he processed the teen's latest barb. He wanted — needed — to follow after Rita, make sure she was alright, but he also needed her for his own fucking sanity. She could soothe him, talk sense like she always did. And yeah, maybe that made him like a puppy that'd gotten too worked up to settle on its own, but at least he had someone who was willing to do that for him.

"What're you gonna do when you run everyone off? Where's that leave you?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer before he left Nate and Becca to their own devices and returned to the room he shared with Rita.

He stood just inside the door after it closed, taking in the sight of her barefoot in her white summer dress, whiskey cracked and glass in hand.

Rita, always with the good plans.

He went to her side and poured a glass for himself and by the time he'd poured and polished off his second glass, the buzzing had faded and he could breathe without having to hear his lungs inflate and deflate in his chest. No one should have to hear that.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually and returned his glass to where he'd found it. His lips tingled and warmth already bloomed in his stomach. "I should've stayed out of it. He just— Goddamnit, Rita, he pushes every fucking button until you damn near explode." He rubbed the back of his neck, then breathed out a long breath of air through his mouth that made his lips flutter. "Or actually explode. I shouldn't have gone after him like I did."

 

[Meraki]

Rita heard the door shut and then there was warmth. It was strange the way Leon seemed to always fill a room with his aura and ease her spirit. She wasn't angry or full of rage, instead she was just hurt. Nate's words picked at her for a long time before that moment, but his last comment about handing her over was a sharp one. One sharp enough to elicit that response from Leon. She was well on her way to her third glass by the time Leon finally spoke and she simply shrugged. "Don't apologize," Rita said finally, turning to face him and look up to him with those bright green eyes. "It's not like he didn't deserve it a little bit."

"And I'm fine," she breathed out, "He's just a kid, Leon, and I know that sounds like an excuse after everything he's said, but it's clear that he has no idea the weight of what he says. He just keeps saying things until he gets a rise out of the people he wants to make upset. He has no idea what the Enforcers are actually capable of – far worse than killing his mom. They kill people every single day. That's basic for them. When I hacked into their mainframe, there were so many files I've never had access to and I don't have to be a genius to know that they do far worse. We've experienced it and some of it we couldn't even imagine."

"He just needs someone to be angry with, especially after months of being on his own in the woods. I'm the closest thing to an actual Enforcer he's going to get right now, so it all comes at me. I understand that and he's not wrong either."

"They manipulated me into believing I was doing something to help after Chase was killed and they put me in a room with billionaires thinking I was doing something to help the world," she pushed her hair back and let out a tired exhale, "and I have to carry that. Maybe I didn't know, but he's right – I owe it to you, Becca, and even Nate to do something about it. They may have manipulated me but I am not going to stop until I find a way to make this okay again. Until we find a way to help all of those who have been hurt by them because it is the least I can do after everything."

She knew Nate was angry, but she hoped that he would find his way. All they could do was keep moving forward and hope that he understood along the way. "But I can't say that to him," Rita admitted and took another sip of her whiskey, "The minute I open my mouth, I validate every single thing he thinks about me. I don't care if he hates me, that's fine, but I just don't want him to be alone anymore. I don't want him to think the only way to protect himself is to push away everyone who cares."

"I did it for too long and when you found me I was broken, Leon. You made all the difference in my life, turned everything on its axis and made me question again, you made me feel safe and loved even when the world was seemingly ending around us. That night on the rooftop, everything clicked, and I knew that I could not live a real, fulfilling life without you in it. I would not be in a place to help anyone if you hadn't helped me."

 

[Acorn]

He stood next to her and listened, but he didn't take the next step, where he wove her words into the fabric of his mind and made them his own. It would've been easier to accept what she said and move on, but regardless of whether or not Nate had meant what he said, he'd shaken Leon and the trust he'd had in him. They'd been edging towards being something like family in his mind, but as much as Nate seemed like the little asshole brother he'd never had, he'd crossed a line when he'd threatened Rita that wouldn't be easy to step back over.

Nate was impulsive and angry. What happened when he got pissed off enough at them that he dropped their location to the Enforcers? They'd get hauled back to the facility and maybe Nate hadn't really meant it, but that wouldn't change the fact that in one moment of anger, he'd lashed out in a way that had very real repercussions.

"I know you wanna help him, but what if he doesn't want the help?" He lifted both hands to run them up Rita's exposed arms, then rested them on her shoulders, his thumbs swiping back and forth against her collarbones as he searched her eyes. "After all we've done for him, he's acting the same way he was when we met him. You let me help you. I don't know what we're supposed to do to make Nate open to that."

He tagged along, ate their food, slept in the hotel room they supplied, but for all their trouble they got snarky remarks and grief. Most of it was directed at Rita, and she said she was fine, that it didn't faze her, but by what Leon could see, it'd made her all the more driven to start a crusade to save all supernatural creatures because she felt like she owed it to them. Saving one or two he could see as an achievable goal, but an entire population they didn't even know the exact size of? It seemed insurmountable.

"After what he said tonight, all I wanted to do is load his ass up in the car and take him back to the woods where we found him," Leon added. "Still might if the way he treats you doesn't change. I can't stand back and let him keep using you as a punching bag."

 

[Meraki]

"It's only been a few days, Leon," Rita said, "You knew me for almost two months before I let you in. I understand he's a risk, one hundred percent, but he needs time. At least let him meet Orvar and get acclimated into this group before you think about dumping him off. He's just a kid, as hard as that is to believe sometimes, and he'll get his shit together."

Rita knew more than anything the kind of darkness that stemmed from watching someone you loved die at the hand of something you couldn't control. It was a kind of darkness that always licked at your vision like flames and it never went away. Nate was just a kid, too. He didn't have the ability to process the same way Rita did and he wasn't old enough to learn how to compartmentalize effectively. Instead, Rita let out an exhale and felt Leon's hands on her shoulder. "We just can't give up on him, yet."

"Even if he's given up on me."

It was a hard comment to make but Rita understood. Maybe Nate would never trust her or care about her in the same way she did for him, but she just wanted him to have someone. Whether that was Leon or Becca or one of the other werewolves under Orvar and the rogue's protection, that was it. She would not leave him in the woods again, abandon him like anyone else. He deserved happiness and security. Everyone did, but especially him. He'd lived in the woods for god's sake, stuck on his own with his wrist sprained and aching from the very recent deaths of his family.

Rita finished her drink and slipped into Leon's arms and thumped her head against his chest. She exhaled and melted into him with nothing left in her for the night. There was nothing in her that wanted to go out or deal with Becca or Nate or the world outside. She just wanted Leon, here, with her. Rita sighed and looked p at him and ran her fingers over the lines of his jaw before smiling gently. "Help me unzip my dress?" Rita asked with a glimmer in her eye, "I can't seem to reach it by myself."

"Unless you'd rather me stay clothed," Rita teased, "which I'm sure isn't true."

 

[Acorn]

Even if it'd only been days, Nate still hadn't even mustered up a thank you for… well, now that he thought about it, he didn't think he'd ever heard Nate say thank you for anything. Maybe he hadn't had someone swatting at him anytime he forgot how to be polite. His grandmother had been a stickler for please and thank you and all the other niceties. When he'd gotten older, she'd taken it a step further and made it habit for him to pull chairs out and hold doors for women. He'd dated a woman once who, as he stood holding the door for her, had snorted at him and made a snide comment about how she had hands, too. Rita had never complained, though, so he'd performed those duties for her, always feeling a surge of pleasure that he was able to show his affection for her in some small way.

He didn't know what Nate's home life had been like before, whether or not he'd been raised to follow basic rules of etiquette, but even if he had, it might not have been at the forefront of his mind given that both his parents had been taken from him. Before he could fully process what a piece of shit that made him for not remembering that when he dealt with Nate, Rita was sinking into him. He'd try harder, make more of an effort, maybe remind Nate to say thank you on occasion in a more gentle way, but for now, there was a woman in his arms who demanded his attention. He slid his hands down her sides, coming to a stop at her hips, then began gathering fabric in his fingers, hitching her dress up so he could slip his hands underneath.

"I can work around your dress," he teased back.

~*~
​

The next day it was the housecleaners late in the morning and not Becca at the crack of dawn who woke them. His mind went through multiple scenarios that all involved Enforcers somehow finding them as he rushed to the hallway Becca and Nate's rooms were, but she'd answered his insistent knocks almost immediately. His concern for her remained steady as the day went on, though, because chatty, bubbly Becca had been replaced with a quiet, somber Becca who responded only when she was spoken to.

Nate was behaving differently as well, snapping comments at Rita, but when Leon would shut him down, he'd scoff and roll his eyes at him. He'd been an idiot the night before with how he'd handled Nate, he knew that, but he hadn't expected it to affect them all to the extent it did.

Leon eventually fell into an uncomfortable silence that wasn't broken until they received an invitation to Orvar's; it'd been a handwritten card in an envelope addressed to their entire group, of course, because why call when you could remind everyone you came from a time before phones existed?

~*~
​

The night was just as warm and humid as the night prior, the lightning bugs were out in force again, and Orvar's home was lit up just as welcomingly.

"Oh," said Becca as they approached the house, her mouth remaining open even after she'd breathed the word. "It's beautiful."

"Whatever," Nate said under his breath.

"It is, don't pretend it isn't," Becca snapped, and Leon's eyebrows shot up. He'd never heard her use that tone with anyone before, not even Nate. Granted, he'd never witnessed Nate being cross with the redheaded witch — the pleasure was reserved for Rita and now him, it seemed, so perhaps she'd never had reason to.

Before things had a chance to escalate any further, they were being ushered in by Orvar who had opened the door as soon as Leon stepped onto the porch.

They were led to the same sitting room Rita and Leon had been the night before, but in the middle of the coffee table was a fragile looking white and gold rimmed tea set that Orvar offered them tea from as they sat down. Becca gasped at it before she perched on the edge of a chair and graciously received her cup from a smiling Orvar. The vampire watched her as she took a delicate sip, his smile only increasing when she made a gleeful little sound and beamed at him.

Leon smiled from his position on the couch next to Rita, too, because it was good to see Becca back.

"I asked you here tonight because I wished to meet the entire group," Orvar said after doling out tea to those who'd accepted his offer and sitting down on his throne of a chair at the head of them all, "but also because I seek clarification." The vampire's kind but sharply intelligent blue eyes went to the couch Rita and Leon sat and he looked at each of them in turn, though his gaze came to settle on Rita before he continued. "You spoke of a process that resulted in a werewolf being able to control their transformation, but you didn't explain what the process was. I would be most grateful if you elaborated."

 

[Meraki]

Rita felt better after she spoke with Leon. Nothing was fixed really, Nate was still huffing and rolling his eyes, but she knew that Leon pulled her back from spiraling. It wasn't that Rita was necessarily in a bad place, but ever since losing Chase, she was prone to fighting off bits of the darkness that laid dormant inside of her. It seemed, though, that Becca was the one who really seemed change by Nate's comments as the young witch spent more of the morning snapping back and sulking around. It was heartbreaking to watch and Rita placed her hand on Becca's shoulder as they walked into Orvar's house the next night. He had invited them over to meet the kids (it seemed strange calling them that, but they were the younger two of the four) and get acclimated. Neither Rita or Leon had discussed whether they would take up Orvar's offer to let them live there.

It was warm outside, humid, and Rita inexplicably missed the feeling. Growing up on the southeastern coast, she was used to warm days, but this took the cake. There was nothing like this feeling in the city, nothing at all. She'd elected to wear another sundress, for the occasion, hand in hand with Leon as the four walked towards Orvar's garden district home. Becca looked up wide-eyed and exclaimed with a brightness Rita hadn't heard all day.

"It is beautiful," Rita agreed, "Wait until you see the inside. It's one of the most beautiful southern homes I've ever seen and I'm from the South."

"Are you?" Becca asked, genuinely curious.

"I am," she confirmed, "Not as South as Texas like Leon, but North Carolina. Right up along the coast."

Orvar was quick to exit the house and usher them in, his words warm and welcoming as he shooed them all towards the same sitting room they were in the other night. There was a tea set and both Rita and Becca did not hesitate to take a sip of the warm liquid. That was the south for you – entirely too hot for tea, but they drank it anyway, or slapped some ice and three pounds of sugar in it and called it sweet. Orvar looked over at her and Rita glanced up from her tea cup, settling it on the table before speaking.

Her mother's debutante, southern belle ways running strong in her veins at that moment. "Not just any werewolf," Rita admitted, "it's Leon."

"The facility implemented a program, working to use magic to break the seal that contains transformations to the full moon. In order to break it, they need a specific grimoire. I don't know the specifics and have never seen it up close, but there is one witch in particular, Lorelei, who works on the transformations. It is not the most –" she tried to find the right words in front of Becca and Nate, but glanced to Leon instead, "humane method, and it often resulted in seizures, but they managed to break Leon's seal and he has been able to transform ever since. After some time working through it, of course."

"It was a difficult transition, from being capable of freely transforming and being able to control the transformation. They seem to struggle with getting werewolves aware enough to transform back. Leon was a…special exception."

Because she ran headfirst into a containment unit and put herself in danger to pull him back, but she didn't say it, as to not give Becca any romantic ideas. The poor girl already worshipped them, the last thing Rita needed was for her to romanticize any of this. Nate, on the other hand, probably would care very little either way. "I wish I knew more about the specifics, I only know what we experienced," she admitted, "The files were restricted while I worked there. I'm afraid my experience was manipulated as most."

 

[Acorn]

Leon hadn't taken tea, but he wished he had when Rita began discussing the process Lorelei had used to break his tie to the full moon. At least then he would've had something to focus on and to distract himself with so he could ignore the pity in Orvar's eyes when his gaze shifted to him. Nate and Becca were looking at him, too, and he wilted beneath the attention; he dropped his head, glanced furtively at them all, then found a spot near the ground to look at. The feet of the coffee table were really ornate and— it was hopeless. As much as he tried to fill his mind with the curves and lines of the furniture, images kept flashing at him and the best he could do was reach out for Rita's hand and go along for the ride.

Lorelei, standing before him, big-ass brown book in hand, chanting. Falling, choking, losing feeling.

Broken bones, healed bones, broken bones, over and over. Fire in his belly, vomiting blood. Searing pain, muscles contracting. Jenny's frown. Always frowning. Always the first thing he'd see when he'd open his eyes after they brought him back.

Rita—not Rita—on the ground, blood coming from her mouth. Lorelei taunting. Rage-pain-helplessness.

He licked his lips and then swallowed thickly, made himself focus on their physical connection. Her fingers in his, warm and soothing. Then his breathing: slow inhale, slow exhale. He'd buried every experience, but Lorelei had shoveled it all up again just before they'd escaped the facility when she came into his containment unit with her grimoire, brought him to his knees again, and pulled apart his insides with a chant.

He dragged his eyes up to Rita, smiled wanly, and squeezed her hand.

"So, um," Becca said, her voice tiny. She fell quiet and caught her bottom lip up between her teeth and chewed at it until Orvar prompted her to continue with a gentle command. The redhead huffed a sigh and leaned forward, teacup and saucer rattling together until she placed them on the coffee table near Rita's.

"I didn't say anything because I didn't think it really mattered, but it seems like it actually matters now and I'm really sorry I didn't say anything, but Lorelei is sort of my um, my aunt? She's my mom's sister, I mean. That grimoire? Was it brown with a star in a circle on the front?"

"Yeah," Leon said.

"That was my mom's. She gave it to me when I left, but Lorelei caught up with me on the way to Louisiana and she took it." Her freckles stood out starkly against her pale complexion that'd turned white. "I couldn't read it, but I knew it was important. She said it was important to them, but I wasn't, so I could," her voice dropped an octave and she mimicked a rasp, "run along kitten."

"It's a pity we don't have the grimoire or we would be able to free our young friend here, along with all the other werewolves under our protection," Orvar remarked, then steepled his fingers against his lips.

Orvar was right; it was too bad he hadn't grabbed it from the floor after Rita had distracted Lorelei and somehow it'd put the witch flat on her back. Something, maybe it was guilt, must've flashed across his face because Orvar stared at him with an arched eyebrow.

"What? How was I supposed to know we'd have our own nice witch who might be able to use it?"

Orvar sighed.

 

[Meraki]

"It's not your fault, either of you," Rita said finally, her mind trying to process everything that was being said. Her hand gripped Leon's back and she looked up to Orvar. Maybe Rita did put the bullets in the glass that shook Lorelei to the core, but she was always the one with the plan and her only plan was to run. She should have known better than to leave a witch with her grimoire…a stolen grimoire at that. Rita did not speak of it being her own fault, but it was heavily implied without going into much detail.

"Don't apologize, Becca," she said finally, offering the young witch a small, warm smile, "There was no way you could have known that we knew her. You can't read it yet, but someday you'll be able to. She just – Lorelei is something else. Incredibly powerful and dangerous, I wouldn't want you getting caught up with her alone."

"That being said, I have no idea how to get the grimoire back from her," Rita admitted finally, "Any time Leon and I have tried to face her, it's all gone terribly wrong. She can control him, affect his transformation and I'm too human to do any good. She has made it very clear that I did not stand a chance against her and she's right. If she didn't want me alive, I wouldn't be."

"What a shame," Nate muttered under his breath and Rita just ignored it. Though she noted Orvar's expression and the tension that came from Nate's comment. There was nothing she could do and it was hard to feel powerless. They could go after the grimoire, but they needed a plan. Nate didn't know how to transform, Becca didn't know how to use her magic, and between Rita's gun and Leon's transformation the people back at the facility knew them. They understood their dynamic and that was what made an onslaught so dangerous. All they would have to do was take Rita out to ignite something in Leon that they could take advantage of. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, knowing you were a constant bargaining chip. Rita picked up her tea cup and took another sip, letting the warm liquid soothe her from the inside out.

"Is there any way to recreate it without the grimoire?" Rita asked, "I know the basics of what they did, Leon knows it more intimately, but would it be possible with enough magic to devise a way of helping the werewolves transform openly?"