I b allseeing_spydr (\(\;;/)/)

Karanine glanced around the airport warily as she stepped off the plane. Just last year this had been another pack’s territory, and it still made her edgy being here. Viktaron, her partner, followed her silently as she made her way towards the baggage claim, his eyes lighting up cheerfully as he scanned the surrounding area.

He glanced at her and grinned. “There’s really nothing to worry about Kara. The Ukala pack is whipped, they won’t be coming back here anytime soon.”

Kara sighed. “I know Vik, but I can’t help being a little paranoid. That whipping you’re talking about didn’t come without casualties on our side too.” Vik’s expression softened and he squeezed her shoulders gently. Kara’s mate had sacrificed his life for the pack against the Ukala.

The younger werewolf sighed and leaned into his embrace for a moment, then shook him off. “Look, there’s one of our bags. Go get it will you?”

Vik grinned. “Yes mother.” He moved around to the other side of the baggage claim to snag a duffle bag off of the belt. Kara watched him with a bitter smile. He was her best friend, the one person she could trust, and she couldn’t even tell him who he really was.

Or she could, he just wouldn’t believe her.

The present Packmaster has gotten that post through a hostile takeover. In the process, he made sure that the only wolf that had a real claim to the ‘throne’ would never try to take it from him.

Viktaron, second son of the last Packmaster, may his howls rise long in the afterlife, was the strongest and cleverest werewolf in the pack. He cared for his wolves, and he would have been the leader the Nitari pack needed, but for a simple leather collar on his neck. A simple collar with a rather complicated spell.

Why Javik, the present Packmaster, hadn’t killed his only rival, came under rather stupid reason of pride and reputation. It was something that was often seen around the pack; a leader must be revered by his wolves. So instead of killing the only one strong enough to fight him, Javik had the pack’s Shaman put a little spell on him.

When Vik had come home from a fight of his own with another pack on their border injured and exhausted, the new Packmaster had taken advantage of his weakness to overpower him and lock the spelled collar onto his neck.

The spell on the collar was one of the best that their skilled Shaman could make. While it was on his neck no one could persuade Vik of who he really was, or that he had a chance against the Packmaster. He was quite convinced that he was the weakling of the pack and his only purpose was to follow the orders of the Packmaster. The enchantment suppressed his intelligence and his power, making him seem rather dim and shallow except to those who were around him enough to see the brief flashes of cunning that got past the spell.

Kara was one of those. She knew his real identity as well as she knew herself, having been turned and been best friends with him two years before Javik came to power. She and her late mate Ivalis had been close enough to Viktaron before the takeover that they chose to fall in status with him, rather than abandon their friend and keep their high positions in the pack.

She was determined to get that collar off of his neck, but that was no easy feat. Due to the spell, Vik was the only one who could remove it and free himself, but no one could convince him he should. Javik had fed him some story about an illness and that if he removed the collar he would die, and the Shaman had made sure he swallowed it whole.

So there they were, Kara and Vik, doing the simplest and safest missions to be found, while Viktaron the rightful Packmaster toddled around with half a mind. If only she could convince him…

“Kara?” A voice cut through her musings. “Karanine? Is that you?” That voice was much too familiar. She turned slowly, dread building a knot in her stomach. “It is you!” A man with the same brown hair and chocolate eyes as the werewolf threw himself across the room and wrapped his arms around her.

Stunned, she stared down at the man who looked so familiar. “Kelisan,” she whispered. A cough that carried an undertone of a growl made her look up quickly. Vik had come back with the bag and was looking at them with an eyebrow raised.

“It’s…It’s my brother. It’s Kel.” The second eyebrow went up to match its partner at that, and Kara saw a fleeting expression of calculation, before the collar suppressed it.

Kel looked up at her wonderingly. “Six years, and now we run into each other. Where on earth have you been? One day you’re complaining that you have nothing to do after college, and the next, you’re just gone.”

“I…” she began, then stopped as Vik shook his head. You know the rules said the look in his eyes he should not be alive. You know what you must do. “I’ve been busy.”

“Do you live around here now?” Asked the eager human. He practically bounced with excitement when she nodded. “Excellent! I’ve just moved here too. Here, I’ll give you my address and we can catch up. Do you want to go for some coffee now? I don’t have a job yet so I really don’t have anything to do at the moment…”

He babbled on as Kara just stared, trying to conceal her shock and panic. Kel? Move here? She couldn’t be around her brother again, by the laws of the pack the previous family of any newly turned werewolves must either die, or be turned. She couldn’t let that happen. Desperately she looked up at Vik, forgetting for a moment that he wasn’t the clever wolf she used to know.

But for once she got lucky. Perhaps the collar was weakening, but instead of just staring at her with that stupid grin, Vik put a pleasant smile on his face and acted as if he hadn’t been a mindless dipshit for the last four years. “Well it’s truly nice to meet you sir, but though you may not have work at the moment Karanine does, and she must return to it.”

Kel blinked. “Oh. Oh yes, I’m sorry. Well here’s my address,” he handed a slip of paper to Kara. “Come and see me. You should come too Mr…”

“Viktaron. You may call me Vik if you wish.”

“Mr. Vik.” Kel nodded to Vik, and with one last grin to his sister he waved and hurried off.

Kara close her eyes, raising a hand to try and rub away the headache growing between her eyes. “Thanks Vik. My lord, I have no clue how I’m going to work this. How can he be here? I can’t keep the pack a secret with Kel poking around, he knows me too well, and I know him well enough to know he won’t give up. Ever.”

She looked pleadingly up at Viktaron, who only grinned stupidly down at her. “I thought he was nice. Too bad he was supposed to die.” Kara sighed. Maybe the spell wasn’t weakening after all.

a few days later

Kara snarled as she threw herself onto her bed, shoving her face into the pillow and screaming as loudly as she could into the muffling darkness. Once she had screamed herself out she rolled over and stared at the ceiling, still fuming.

Vik poked his head around the door cautiously. “I’m sorry Kara, I didn’t mean to make you mad, but I had to tell the Packmaster. He’s…He’s the Packmaster.”

She closed her eyes, praying for patience. “I’m not angry with you Vik.” It was only half a lie. She was angry with him, but only the part of him that was being controlled by that thrice damned spell. Being the weakest, stupidest little shit in the pack, Vik’s loyalty to the Packmaster caused him to tell Javik any and all little interesting tidbits that came up on their missions, no matter how much they upset his partner.

And so, Vik had told the Packmaster all about Kel and their meeting with him, and she had been ordered before the Packmaster so that he could deliver a blistering lecture on the ‘rules’ that had run the pack from the beginning. They could not risk discovery. Any relatives of a newly turned must either be turned themselves, or die.

The Shaman at the time she had been turned had been weak enough that she could hide the fact that she had a brother, especially since he’d been away at college when she turned. The rest of her family hadn’t been so lucky. And now she had been ordered to slay the only one she had been able to save.

She had till the next moonturn, three weeks from that night, to finish it herself, or she would suffer the consequences at the hands of the Packmaster. Her other duties and Vik’s were suspended until she could get her nerve up to hunt, and bring her brothers head for the Packmaster to feast upon.

She hadn’t even gotten over her mates death three months ago, and already her world was falling apart a second time. How could she kill her own brother? The same way she had murdered her parents, her sister…

But she had been newly turned then, uncontrollable. Back then the wolf in her knew nothing but the will of the pack, emotionless. Now…

Vik sat at the foot of her bed, his innocent eyes staring down at her in concern. “I can do it for you, if you want.”

“No!” she cried, sitting up quickly to grab his arm. “No,” she said more calmly. “This is my battle Vik. And there might still be a way out of it.” Kara reached up to touch his collar gently. “Please Vik, will you just try to take this off for me?”

He blinked at her. “Do you want me to die?”

She sighed. “You won’t die, I promise.”

“The Shaman said I would die, if I took it off.”

“The Shaman lies Vik.”

He pulled away slightly. “I don’t believe you. Why do you want me to die?” The look in his eyes was hurt and confused.

Kara shook her head. “Never mind Vik.” It was hardly worth the try. It certainly hadn’t worked the last eight thousand times she had tried to get him to take his collar off. No matter what she said, he would never believe her. He didn’t want to die.

“You have to do it Kara.” He said quietly, the concern back in his voice. “The Packmaster will be mad if you don’t. I don’t want him to be mad.”

She patted his arm. “I know Vik, I know.” She pulled the slip of paper with Kel’s address out of her pocket.

As Kara and Vik made to leave the manor owned by the Nitari pack, Vik turned and waved to someone Kara couldn’t see. His intelligence may be suppressed, but his senses were the sharpest in the pack, even if he wouldn’t acknowledge the fact.

Mikal, one of Javik’s guards, stepped out of the shadows in wolf form, walking up to the pair. Kara stiffened. “What do you want Mikal.”

The gigantic silver wolf looked up at her sadly. They had once been friends, when he and Ivalis, Kara’s mate, had been partners. That was before he had turned on his partner, slaughtering his fellow wolf, and then turned on his friends by abandoning Viktaron to side with Javik.

It wasn’t easy for a werewolf to form human speech in wolf form, but Mikal managed. “The Packmaster has ordered me to accompany you and see that the deed is done.” His voice was rough, more of a directed growl than actual words.

Kara snorted. She should have seen this coming. “Why, don’t think I have the courage? Or are you planning on killing me while my back is turned,” she snarled.

The silver wolf turned shook his massive head, “It wasn’t like that Kara, please…”

“I’ve had enough of this,” she growled low. “Stay out of my business. Unless you’re afraid of what our dear Packmaster might do if you dare defy his orders.”

Turning her back on him, she nodded to Viktaron, and they both melted smoothly into their wolf forms Vik was gigantic, with pitch black fur. Kara, somewhat smaller, was grey with a little brown. They vanished into the darkness.

The silver wolf picked up one foot uncertainly and whined, then slipped quietly into the shadows after them.

Kara paused on the curb, her sharp eyes picking out the numbers on the side of the house before her. With a heavy sigh she shifted back into her human form and stepped into the streetlight’s glow. A moment later Vik appeared at her side, running a hand through his short cropped hair. “I smell him here.”

“This is his house.” Straightening her spine Kara strode up the handful of stairs to the door. She took a deep breath and knocked.

A sleepy Kel opened the door and Kara felt her heart constrict. “Kara?” he said with a yawn. “It’s 1:00 AM, what are you doing here so late?”

“I need to talk to you,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

He blinked at her for a moment, and then nodded. “Alright, come in.”

Vik glanced over his shoulder as they entered, noting a silver shadow darting across the street. He said nothing.

They took seats across from Kel in the living room of his small house. “Now what’s all this about?” the man glanced from his sister to her friend and back.

Kara got restlessly to her feet and began pacing. “Kel, you have to leave. Get out of here, sell the house, disappear, do you understand me?” Vik growled low. “Shut up Viktaron” she snapped before turning to look her brother in the eyes. “Don’t ask any questions Kel. You have to leave and never contact me again.”

Her brother glared. “Don’t ask any questions? You think I’m just going to buy that? What the hell is going on here Kara?” She felt her heart sink. Of course he wouldn’t listen. She should have seen this coming.

As she opened her mouth to try once more there was a loud crash from behind her. “No!” she screamed as a silver figure flew through the living room aimed straight for her brother’s throat.

She watched in slow motion as the wolf soared towards her brother, intent on finishing the job himself, unable to move fast enough to intercept the blow. As Mikal’s leap carried him over the couch however, Vik rose up, a great black form rippling with a power that was Pure Wolf.

Effortlessly he reached out one terrible paw and batted Mikal aside, the silver wolf letting out a surprised yelp before he crashed into the coffee table and stayed there, unconscious. For a moment Viktaron looked down at his fellow wolf, his eyes full of the sharpness and kind wisdom that should be leading them, and Kara’s breath caught. That was her Viktaron…

Then the symbols on the collar flashed and sadness at having to strike down his brother turned to panic. Vik dropped into human form and shot her a horrified look. “Oh my god Kara, what have I done?”

She immediately crossed the room to embrace him. “Shhh, it’s alright, he’s just stunned,” she soothed.

“K-kara?”

She looked up sharply from where she had wrapped her arms around Vik on the couch and met her brother’s eyes. “Please Kel, let me explain.”

He stared at her wide-eyed, “Believe me Sis, you have my full attention.”

Quickly she explained what she was, what had happened to her, and Vik’s situation. She left out the part where the deaths of their family were her fault. She wasn’t brave enough to face the horror he must meet that revelation with.

He sat in silence for a while after her explanation, and then sat back with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “So you’re a werewolf.” He said a little shakily. “Are you guys…it? I mean, if there are werewolves…”

“Oh there are others,” she shrugged. “Vampires, witches, goblins, demons…we don’t usually concern ourselves with them.”

“Well why don’t you take him,” he nodded toward Vik, “to one of these witches or something? Maybe they could break his spell. It seems like that would solve all of our problems.”

Viktaron wasn’t listening to the conversation, instead he sat and stared worriedly at Mikal, who was still out cold on top of the remains of the coffee table.

Kara shook her head. “We do not associate with the others. We trust no one outside of our pack.”

Kel raised an eyebrow. “You trust me don’t you? And it doesn’t sound like there’s much trust in your ‘pack’ right now anyway.”

She sighed. “No, not much.”

“I’ve got a friend,” he said, seemingly thinking out loud. “He says he’s a witch, and I just thought he was talking about all that Wicca hocus pocus, but now…Sis I think it’s worth a try.”

She looked up at him and then nodded slowly. “I can see no other alternative, and the Packmaster will be expecting us to return with your head. We shall go.”

“No!” Viktaron suddenly turned back to them, snarling. “I will go to no witch. Why are you trusting humans Kara, they are bad for us. We should go to the Packmaster and hope he is merciful!”

“Enough!” Kara snarled low and he shrunk back, startled by the outburst. Kara was rarely truly harsh with him. “I have had enough of this Packmaster is god business from you Viktaron. He is not here, I am here, I outrank you and you will do as I say.” She allowed her tone to soften slightly, though it was still a firm growl. “We are going to see the witch.”

“Yes Kara,” Vik said meekly, following her and Kel as they left the house, Mikal’s unconscious form swung rather un-gently over her shoulder.

The witch, Lucia, was up fortunately, though rather startled to see her friend in the company of two wolves. They explained things quickly to her and it turned out, fortunately again, she was a real witch, rather than a wannabe who didn’t truly know the Other World.

“I can make you a substitute head,” she said, examining the collar of a very stiff and wary Viktaron. “But this spell is beyond me I’m afraid. I can’t break it, I’m sorry.”

Vik pulled away sharply. “I don’t want you to break it. It keeps me alive!”

“No,” Lucia said, giving him a glare for his stubbornness. “It keeps you stupid. You are the only one who can remove it, but it keeps you servile so that you don’t want to. You played right into your shaman’s hands, poor soul. All you have to do to be free is to take it off.”

Vik looked at her uncertainly. “Kara says that a lot…she told you…”

“No,” the witch said, shaking her head. “I only met her just now, I can see all of that in the spell. It’s the truth. You hold your freedom in your hands, if you’re brave enough to take it.”

He stared at her, reaching up to touch the collar lightly. Then he whined low and shook his head, running to Kara and burying his face in her shoulder. “No, I don’t believe you! Why do you all want me to die.”

She held him and shook her head sadly, meeting the witch’s eyes. “I’ve tried countless times. He won’t believe me. He won’t believe anyone.”

Lucia gave her a sympathetic smile. “All you can do is keep trying.”

“Uh, guys,” Kel said, slightly nervous. “I think this guy is waking up…”

Mikal groaned and opened his eyes melting back into human form. Kara was at his side in a flash, shoving him back her arm across his throat, cutting off his air. “You,” she hissed. “I should kill you where you lie, you traitorous pig.”

“Kara!” Vik said sharply. She ignored him.

“I…I had to finish it…” Mikal wheezed. “The Packmaster will kill you…for defying him…I cannot…let that happen…”

“Oh really?” Kara snarled, pressing harder, making him choke and struggle feebly. “You killed Ivalis, why should you give a shit about me? You are scum Mikal, you hear me scum!”

“Kara, that’s enough, you’re killing him,” Kel snapped, pulling her away with Lucia’s help. He gave the gasping Mikal a cold look. “We’ve found a way to trick your ‘Packmaster’ so no one has to get punished. You can either go along with it, or I can let her have you.” Kara snarled and lunged a little, just to make the point stick.

Mikal glanced from her to her brother, his eyes haunted. “Very well, I will say nothing.”

After Kara managed to bully Vik into Not Telling, and her brother into staying with the witch, the three wolves headed back with the fake head Lucia had created. It was originally a turnip, but the spell would hold until the Packmaster had eaten it, and there should be no ill effects for the change in form.

Kara strode through the group of wolves who parted for her, snarling, Vik and Mikal a few steps behind her. She dropped the ‘head’ before the Packmaster and glared into his eyes. “It is done.”

He grinned, not bothering to take human form and growled at her, “Well done dear Kara. I confess I didn’t think you had it in you.”

She bared her teeth but didn’t quite dare snarl at him. The Packmaster lowered his head and opened huge jaws preparing to feast.

“Stop!”

Kara felt her insides turn to ice as the shaman appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. He had always given her shivers in human form, or in wolf form as he was now. Originally pure white as all shaman were, he had dyed his coat blood red. It fit him.

“That is not the head of any human,” he snarled. Reaching the Packmaster he stretched out a red limb and pawed at the fake head, which immediately turned back into a turnip.

The Packmaster turned back to Kara with a roar. “You seek to defy me bitch? Well here then is your reward. You seek to save one that you love, now you shall lose two!” he launched his dirty grey form at Vik and Mikal who were standing off to the side, heading for Mikal first.

“You will not harm them! I will not let you!” Kara screamed, shifting fluidly into her wolf form and throwing herself in front of the larger wolf. The went down in a tangle of yelping and snarling fur. The Packmaster got one massive paw free and took the smaller wolf out with a single powerful blow to the skull. Kara fell and did not move.

“Kara!” As the Packmaster untangled himself from the female wolf, Mikal threw himself across the space between them. Rearing up onto his hind legs, the Packmaster took out the silver wolf with a single backhand blow.

He dropped back onto all fours. “It is finished,” he snarled.

But as he spoke a howl of pure agony rang out behind him. Vik sat in his wolf form next to Kara, great head inches from the ground. “You have taken from me all that made my life worth living.” He reached up with one paw and tore off the collar that held him bound.

There was a moment of silence and Viktaron blinked in confusion. Then his features formed a mask of purest rage as he looked up on his oppressor. “You…”

“No!” the Packmaster screamed, throwing himself at the black wolf. “I will not let you take this pack from me!”

Viktaron went down with a snarl, then kicked the grey wolf off of him. “This is my pack, you have hurt my back, you will die, this is my pack!” He leaped onto the usurper, finding his throat with his teeth and tearing it out with a single wrench of his head.

Spitting the blood out he raised his head victorious and howled, long and loud. A moment later his pack joined in, paying homage to their new Packmaster. Their true Packmaster.

The shaman tried to run. Unfortunately for him the flash of blood red caught Viktaron’s attention and he leaped onto the shaman’s back with a snarl, snapping the wolf’s spine.

He turned mournfully to Kara and Mikal and his heart gave a leap as he saw what the dulling effect of the collar had hidden from him. They were alive, if barely. “Tend to them, he growled.” His wolves scrambled to obey.

There would be many changes around this pack. He would see to it.

“Viktaron!” Vik chuckled as Kara ran up and threw her arms around his neck, burying her head in his chest. “You’re back, at last.”

“Yes, at last.” He looked up to where a figure was lurking in the shadows, watching them. “Mikal, come here.”

The silver wolf whined, but did as he was told, keeping his head low in submission as he approached his Packmaster.

“I believe the two of you have unfinished business,” Viktaron said, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s finished,” Kara growled.

“No, it’s not,” the Packmaster said firmly. “Now hear him out. Mikal, tell us what happened between you and Ivalis.”

Mikal kept his eyes on the ground. “We were fighting Ukala. Iva got hit.” He glanced up to see Kara’s glare, then winced and lowered his eyes again. “They poisoned him. With wolfsbane.”

There was a soft gasp. “He attacked me. It was fight or die.” He looked up again and this time met her eyes. “I was not ready to die Kara. I…I hoped that once he was gone…It was wrong of me, I know…”

“Yes,” she snarled. “It was wrong of you.”

He closed his eyes. “I loved you. But I loved him too. I would never have killed him Kara, you have to know that. He was already dead.” He lowered his voice to whisper. “Please…”

She looked away, struggling not to cry as old wounds were once again ripped open. “Wolfsbane. I…yes, I understand. You…” She looked up. “I’m sorry I did not believe you.”

He took a hesitant step forward, and Vik gave her a little shove in his direction. With a sob Kara ran to him and Mikal wrapped his arms around her. Finally they had someone to mourn with. Someone who loved Ivalis just as much.

Viktaron smiled and left them alone. All was finally well within the pack. Now it was time to begin the search for a new shaman. And a new life.