Spy

Wenny woke up the next morning in elated spirits. As she lay on the bed looking up at the wooden ceiling, she smiled to herself out of pure contention. She felt guilty suddenly, for being happy...but this feeling lasted only for a moment. She looked through the window and saw faint god ray's starting to break through the curtains. She thought about last night's good parts and excitedly squealed thinking if Theraff and her could go another round before Feraff woke up. She flumped her hand to the right of the bed to feel Theraff but hit nothing but cold bedsheet.

She didn't even have to look...she knew; Theraff was gone. Sneaked out before even dawn broke. She lay there, the room suddenly empty and the bed cold. Wenny felt tears coming up as she stared at the ceiling above and she let them flow. She turned around and grabbed a little of the bedsheet in which Theraff had laid and started sobbing in it, trying to muffle her sounds.

She was hating herself. She'd never cry like this when Sheraff would not be in bed. She knew she liked him to some extent; liked having sex with him. He was always more gentle than Theraff was. And right now, she hated herself for missing her brother-in-law more than her husband, and missing her husband, if even a little, as if she was cheating on her brother-in-law.

Wennrietta didn't know how long she lay there just crying. However, soon she suddenly realized, there were no more tears in her eyes. Her mind was still a mess as much as her legs were, but she couldn't cry anymore. As if even her tears didn't deem her worthy. She took a deep breath and forced herself out of bed. Hastily diving into her modest cupboard to grab something to wear, she put on a casual, light blue, village gown.

"I'll go take a bath in the river...clear my head." she said out loud, as if trying to drown out the other thoughts in her head. "Yes, that's what I'll do." she said, shaking her head vigorously. Wenny tiptoed out of the bedroom and peaked into Feraff's room: still sound asleep. Good. She tiptoed back across the hall and was out of the door before Ferraf's had even taken his second breath.

The village was just waking up around her, and she was in no mood to run into any conversation thrown at her. She pulled up her leather hood and set off in a brisk walk toward the gate. It was shut now, on Theraff's departing order to Grazz, the Captain of the Village Guard (the werewolf assigned to be in charge by Sheraff when none of the four wolves were in the village). He was a sharp, stubble-bearded werewolf who fully realized the responsibility that fell on his shoulders whenever he was left in charge.

He was personally sitting up at the ledge above the gate keeping guard when he spotted Wennrietta coming toward him. She glanced up at him and he knowingly nodded. A sliver of an opening was created in the gate, and Wenny slipped out of the village before anyone even noticed a thing. He stared after her slender figure skipping over the uneven land that lead to the river and he shook his head with sympathy: "Poor woman must be so alone, missing her husband."

Wenny, once out of the village, suddenly started feeling jubilant again. She had noticed this effect long ago. That rotten village with all its judgmental and ungrateful people. She loathed them all with a passion...but never let anyone see the poison behind her eyes; not even Theraff. For they were the reason why she couldn't be with Theraff. Why Theraff wouldn't just run away with her. How he always sacrificed himself for them...and they who were always envious of Theraff's strength. Whenever she was out of their reach, she felt excited and joyful...the whole world for her to explore. She happily leaped over the stones, a gentle breeze swaying the trees and tall grass around her, and went further and further away from the village.

Pretty soon, Wenny reached the small flowing stream. The water flowed crystal clear with a low hum as if it was whistling about the things it'd witnessed throughout its life. The birds chirped a merry tune, and the grass was green and soft under her feet. The tree over her head provided a soft shade and perfect cover from anyone passing through. This was always the spot that Wenny would come to whenever she wanted a bath.

Wenny took in a deep breath and as routine whenever she got here, she glanced up at the small hill far away from which the stream originated and spotted the inconspicuous boulders. Rocks that sheltered the entrance to the alcove in which Theraff and her had spent many of their stolen moments together. She smiled. I could die for him. She slipped off her gown from her shoulders and it slithered down her elegant body like a leaf. Tiptoeing across the grass, she slowly walked into the stream. When she was submerged down to her shoulders, she stopped and closed her eyes; the world was perfect.

When the sun was well risen, Wenny finally forced herself to get out of the water. She quickly grabbed her clothes, and before the wind could reach her, she put them on. Feeling warm and a little smug, she looked around her with a self-satisfied smile. Suddenly, her jaw dropped. Color drained from her face. The leather hood she had in her hands slid out of her fingers. Her lips trembled and she just stared. Standing across her, observing her with almost a sneer, stood a vampire.

* * *

And it wasn't just any vampire. It was a female with long, flowing, dark purple hair, her eyes like amethysts. She stood in exquisite, dark red dress robes which perfectly outlined her gorgeous figure with a large, graceful hood which went over her head. But more than that, there was an aura around her...one like she'd never felt before. One of power. Who is she? How long has she been looking at me? Why didn't I hear her? Wenny suddenly realized, she was out of earshot of the village, even for werewolves. If this was an ambush and there were more vampires around, she was done for.

She hid the fear and snarled, flashing her werewolf teeth at the vampire. Her eyes were glowing yellow now and her nails were out. "Give me one reason why I should tear your neck apart, vampire."

"You'd want to see your son again." said the vampire, breaking the stare and walking around toward the tree.

Wenny flinched internally upon Feraff's mention, but kept her guard up and the vampire in her sight as she stepped in a circular motion to keep facing the adversary.

The vampire was calm...completely calm; as if it was in total control. Does she have a group nearby that makes her this confident? Wenny strained her ears to locate any enemies...hear one breath...one misstep...one broken twig. Nothing. It can't be...she's this...this confident solely on her own power? The thought made Wenny uneasy and, strangely, insulted.

Yet still the uneasiness outweighed the anger. The vampiress walked with an inhuman grace, her long, bright, red, gown flowing over the grass. She stopped at the river bank. And, as if to honor this goddess of beauty, some of the river water rose up to form a short, arched bridge of crystal clear water that reached her waist. The vampiress stretched a gentle hand and ran her fingers through the soft water. She smiled as the blue liquid tickled her and played with her.

Wennrietta just observed this, mesmerized by the delicate display. Those soft, pink cheeks of hers, her pale pearl-like skin, her perfectly thick, red lips, her flawless teeth. For a second, a sudden urge came over Wennrietta to jump on the vampiress and kiss her. Kiss her so much that both their salivas would mix together and drip over their lips as they kissed ever more hungrily. But that thought almost instantly gave way to a more terrifying thought: Is she trying to charm me? Is this what's called a vampire's seduction? And how is it working!? Wennrietta forced herself to think of something else; anything else. Theraff, his big hulking body, the muscles of his back as she put her arms around him...his rough ways. This vampiress wouldn't be like that...she was delicate...soft. She'd be ever so gentle... Dammit! Hate the vampires! Remember what they did to Sheraff? How they almost killed Feraff that one time! Wait, Feraff! That's it! She forced herself to think about her son and how he was waiting for his mother to come back home. It worked wonders; her mind was cleared. I have to run while she is busy! Wait...where is she? Wennrietta cleared the fog from her mind and made herself focus on the information she had been ignoring from her eyes. She gasped and almost fell over as she jumped back. The vampiress was standing barely two feet from her. Their faces had been so close to each other, Wennrietta could've made out every detail of the vampiress's eyes.

She hissed and raised her clawed arms in poise to attack; a warning. Wennrietta was scared. How did she get so close me without me even realizing it? She could've killed me right there! The vampiress was completely unperturbed by the display of anger. She tilted her head like a curious child as if she was looking at Wennrietta for the first time.

"You're the prettiest werewolf I've ever seen." she said suddenly.

"Huh?" The words stunned Wennrietta for a second. She dropped her guard. Compliments was the last thing she was expecting from a vampiress. And, as she hated herself for it, she realized some part of her felt good to be acknowledged by this goddess of perfect beauty.

"Wha...what do you want?" stammered Wennrietta trying to refocus her mind.

"For you to tell me where your husband went." said the vampiress simply, still observing Wennrietta like a child observing a curious slug.

At the mention of her family, Wennrietta's mind cleared even more. So they after information! Wennrietta scoffed. "And why would you think a werewolf would ever obey a vampire?"

"Oh. Hmm..." wondered the vampiress, putting a finger to her chin and looking up at the sky in contemplation. Wennrietta smirked. Her confidence was growing. This woman's clearly an idiot and an airhead. Maybe I should kill her just for fun.

"How about this?" asked the vampiress as if she'd just suddenly gotten an idea. "If you don't tell me everything, I'll tell your husband you've been sleeping with his brother."

Wennrietta was stupefied. The vampires had said it quite simply, like a child recalling a story to his mother. Such casual use of one of the biggest fears Wennrietta had in life left her dumbstruck. Suddenly, the tables had turned on her; she felt like an idiot and an airhead. "You...you..." she stammered helplessly.

In an instant, the visage of a curious child had lifted from the vampiress's face. The same fear Wennrietta had felt when she'd first seen her overcame her again. The face was sharp now. Those amethyst eyes were shining brightly, piercing Wennrietta's soul and laying bare all her secrets and fears.

"He wouldn't believe you." tried Wennrietta desperately.

"Wouldn't he?" asked the vampiress taking a step toward her prey. "Are you sure about that?"

"Ye-yes."

"You believe that?" asked she asked, taking another step.

"Ye...yes." said Wennrietta without any conviction. She instinctively took a step back as the vampiress stepped forward. Whatever was stalking her was not on her level, and she clearly understood it now.

"Would he also believe you when you desperately claim that your repulsive offspring is his?"

Wennrietta's eyes widened in shock. "Ferraff is his child!" she screamed deafeningly.

The vampiress was unaffected. "Are you sure about that?" she asked, closing the remaining distance between them. She stood towering above Wennrietta now, like some angry goddess. The features inhuman, the aura of a demon, the eyes of slicing through her soul. All the werewolf saw in her countenance was the retribution for all her sins; punishment given form and unleashed upon her.

Unable to help herself in front of this god-like entity, Wennrietta collapsed on the grass, buried her face in her hands, and started sobbing. All the excitement since Sheraff had left, the lust of last night, sadness of waking up alone. Every single time she'd been with Theraff before getting married, every single time she'd been with him after the marriage, every single time she'd bedded Sheraff...all came crashing down on her mind to unleash an uncontrollable flood of emotions. Wennrietta could do naught but wail. "Feraff is his child." she sobbed in a quiet voice. "Feraff is his child...he is his child...Feraff is his child. I know...I know he is his father...a mother knows."

Suddenly, a shockwave of pure anger hit Wennrietta from above. She was slammed to the ground as if a dragon had suddenly stepped on her. She couldn't move a muscle, her vision was blurring, her breath was knocked out of her. She strained her neck to look up at the vampiress looking down at her with pure disgust and irritation.

The vampiress knelt down to Wennrietta with an angelic grace. She touched her chin and lifted her face up towards her own. "You know," said the vampiress, half to herself as she observed her features. "out of all the vermin of this world, I think I hate werewolves the most. I...will never understand why Lord Valentine assigns them such importance."

Wennrietta winced; her spine felt like it'd crack any second. The force from the spell that held her in place was immense, but the vampiress's lifting her face up made Wennrietta feel like her spine would simply crack like a twig.

The purple haired woman didn't seem to care and continued on. "But then again, there's a lot I don't understand. Why didn't he kill me back then? Why doesn't he treat me like the flea I am, compared to him? Why does he take so much effort for me?" The vampiress turned a little red as if she was suddenly shy thinking about Lord Valentine. "Why did he entrust me with dealing with this werewolf pack?" she added, her tone fading, as if in confusion.

"Let...let...me go." managed Wennrietta through gritted teeth. Her breaths were getting shorter, and her vision was fading even more now.

The vampiress looked down at the face in her hands. "Listen to me well, insect." she said savagely. "If it were up to me, I would've slaughtered your entire pack by now. Your children, your mother, your husband, your lover...everyone. But you stand yet, only because of Lord Valentine's mercy on you."

Wennrietta groaned. Her breath came in short, sharp, painful gasps now. Her lungs being pierced by a thousand needles every time she breathed. Help me! I'll do anything to get out of this pain!

"I'll tell you a secret." said the vampiress. "I love him!" she shouted, a shine of madness coming over her eyes. There was a tone of pride in her voice too; as if admitting this fact out loud wasn't something she did very often. "I love him, I love him! I love him! I love him soooo much!"

Wennrietta groaned again. Her vision was barely clear anymore. Her mind was fazed. This is it. This is how I die.

"I'd do anything, and I mean anything for him. A being as great and powerful as him. The fact that he even looks at me makes my heart race." The vampiress snapped her fingers around Wennrietta's cheeks with a vice-like grip. "And he entrusted me to get to the bottom of this mess. He entrusted me with a task. I'll do anything to impress him. Anything to make him look my way. Anything to hear even a word of praise! He is the only reason I don't burn you alive right here." The grip tightened more and the werewolf felt like her teeth would come off. "So, you listen to me well, worm. I will not let anyone, especially not some werewolf whore, stand in my way of getting my master's work done. You will tell me everything, you will become my spy, or your child being skinned alive will be the least of your worries."

Wennrietta couldn't even groan anymore. Her entire body was giving up. Her spirit was depleted. Any will she had to resist, fight, or struggle with this demon's orders had long since been evaporated to give way to fear and panic. With the last remaining ounce of her strength, Wennrietta managed to nod her head. "I'll...I'll...tell everything!"

* * *

Sierra Voidfire took a deep breath. The noon sun was warm. The sky was slightly cloudy and soft wind blew through the green pastures. The stream at her feet rippled merrily down over smooth pebbles. She smiled to herself. Val would like this weather. He'd close his eyes and breath it all in...I wonder where he is now...

On the ground behind her, lay a crumpled figure of a werewolf in a blue gown. She seemed to be pain and was struggling to stay conscious. Sierra was completely apathetic of her. She'd been nothing more than an insect to be used to quickly accomplish a goal...and forgotten just as quickly. Nothing more than a raven used to send messages.

She pondered over what she'd learned. How the top werewolves in the pack had gone to hunt the wendigos to see if they had had a hand in the massacre. Sierra shrugged internally. Well, it's not like we didn't know it. But, like Lord Valentine always says; a good investigator listens to what others say, but a real investigator verifies it for himself. But that still doesn't mean this wasn't all an act to shift the blame. She closed her eyes, trying to categorize her thoughts, find reason. She'd been entrusted to accomplish something in her master's name, and there was no way she was going to leave any stone unturned, any thread not spun, anything up to her subordinates.

But...what else can I do now? I have my informant now; anything The Order members miss or can't gather, she'll give to me. But...what now? She knew Sheraff and his small accompanying pack would be travelling for a few days to reach the wendigo settlement. She'd personally implanted a spy in the village now. Valentine had left her. Sierra hugged herself; the wind suddenly felt cold. She was all alone now...no warmth of her master's embrace. No reassuring smell of of his. As long as she had a goal, she was working tirelessly. But now, when everything was at an impasse, she felt completely lost...scared even.

Sierra took another deep breath and steadied herself. She remembered her younger days, when she was just starting out with Valentine. His beautiful face, his kind eyes, his patience, his perfect guidance. How he would train her to fight, stalk...kill. Valentine's face wafted through her troubled mind. She remembered his words as he kindly but firmly held her arm to stop her from jumping down from the tree they were hiding in.You're a hunter; your biggest enemy is not your prey, it's your ability to stay calm as you wait for it.

Sierra opened her eyes and smiled. Her world was alright now that she'd seen Valentine...heard his voice. She was at peace again. I will wait a thousand years if it is for you, my Lord. The tree rustled as a gust of wind blew, the leaves and branches swaying...and in an instant the vampiress had disappeared into thin air.