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Between the Lines: Sequel to Somewhere Between	By : AceMaxwell Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 6046 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Hellboy or the characters within, and I don't make money off Hellboy or this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
For all of them, deep darkness is their morning; they make friends with the terrors of darkness.~Job 24:17

- HB

I definitely don't sleep that night. After what happened, who could blame me? 'Scout, on the other hand, sort of dozes. He went to sleep right after we finished having sex, but only stayed asleep about twenty minutes. Then he was twitching and moaning, and I had to shake his shoulders to break him out of it.

We continue that way about half the night, me just keepin' watch while he sleeps and waking him up when he needs me to. After a while, he stops trying to sleep and we just lay together. I keep expecting him to drift off again, but every time I look down, he's staring into space.

"What are you thinking about?" I finally ask, sliding my fingers across his back.

His answer is so quiet I almost don't catch it, "Eden."

Eden? It's definitely not what I was expecting. "Eden, like in Genesis Eden?"

'Scout sits up to look at me, propping himself on one elbow. Whatever it is, he's still thinking hard on it, trying to figure it out. "Demegov said that he needed my blood in Eden. I don't know whether it was Eden from the bible, or something else. That was all he said."

I process that, my mind turning over all the myths and legends I can remember about Eden. There's nothing I can think of that references Lycanthrope blood and the original paradise. In fact, there's nothing concerning any kind of blood and Eden that comes to mind. It's got to mean something else. A guy with as many religious statues and paintings as Demegov probably named a building or a site Eden.

John nudges me so I'll lie on my back. I do and he climbs on top of me, laying our bodies flush except for his face. He stays propped up so he can look me in the eyes.

"I think we should pack up some of Abe's books and pay the Society a visit. Between Abe and Eon, maybe we can find an answer to this mess," 'Scout sighs, blowing a stray piece of hair out of his face. It defiantly falls right back into place.

I tuck it behind his ear while I nod at his statement, "They'll probably figure something out a little faster that way." I don't doubt that either of them could figure it out alone, but those two have some hardcore brainstorming sessions. Considering they never talk, it's ridiculously intense.

The trip might calm 'Scout's nerves a little too. Being with the Society usually leaves him pretty content. Maybe it's because all of us in a big group is more like a pack, but I can't bet on that. Whatever the reason, he could use the stress relief.

'Scout lays his head down, his fingers tracing the pattern on my right shoulder. His hair is greyer than it was yesterday. The realization gives me a very uneasy feeling. The past few days have taken more of a toll on him than I'd thought. Right now, he looks more his age than he ever has, and that scares the hell out of me.

Something I've been vainly trying to ignore is the fact that 'Scout will probably go long before I do. What if I don't ever age past this point? I'd be immortal alone.

I squeeze him tighter and bite back my fear. He needs me to be strong, especially right now, so my goddamn insecurities can wait. 'Scout worries about enough without him fretting over what I'm going to do once he's gone. Knowing the way he takes on blame, he'd probably blame himself for getting old and apologize for it.

"HB?"

I clear my throat so I won't sound like I was getting choked up and answer, "Yeah?"

"Why do I have a memory of you screwing me while I'm unconscious?"

My mind goes blank for a second. I can barely remember it, even though it only happened a few hours ago, but I know it's because of… him (The split personality I'm not even going to name in my head in case it makes me become him again). I can remember Abe's words about John dying if I didn't do something immediately.

Wait… 'Scout hasn't gotten a memory from me since the first time we had sex. Why did he get one now?

I backpedal and start with the explanation, "Abe said you'd die if I didn't re-mate you." I'm digging through my memory for more, but it's all hazy, like I was drunk or something. Part of me is relieved that my other half cares enough about John to do what he had to. "And how the hell did you know about that if you were unconscious?"

'Scout shrugs a little and frowns, "I have a lot of memories I didn't have before, but I'm in most of them. It's kind of weird."

So I guess re-mating is just like a mating. It's like we started from scratch in his wolf's mind. There were a few things I've been hiding from him that are out in the open now. Not much I can do about that.

He cites and example almost instantly, "You don't sleep after I get hurt?"

Damn the wolf mating process and all of its 'perks'.

I groan out of embarrassment more than anything, mostly because he'll think my actions are cute or sweet. It doesn't really matter, but it kind of damages the badass persona I try to maintain. "Yeah and you know about my cigar stash too, I know, I'm sorry." Though, I guess 'Scout can see past all that anyway.

'Scout surprises me when he laughs, "I've known about the cigar stash since you started it. Don't underestimate my nose, Red."

And it didn't disappear why? Guess I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Geez, that's an old saying. Maybe I should give that one up.

I rub my thumb along 'Scout's jaw, admiring the amusement still dancing in his eyes. Abe was right about 'Scout being able to bounce back from anything, but I think he underestimated exactly how sturdy he is. The kid doesn't just bounce back, he's fucking Indian rubber.

"You amaze me, you know that?"

'Scout leans into my touch and smiles. It's a bigger grin than I've seen on him in a while, "Yeah, I know."

Demegov needs to be dealt with. I'll kill him myself if I get the chance. Whatever he's up to has got to be bigger than making 'Scout nuts, then letting his lackey have his way with him. There's gotta' be a bigger picture.

Eden. Why Eden?

With this many demons involved, it may very well be the Eden where it all began, but that place has been lost for centuries. Besides it being the birthplace of sin, there's not a hell of a lot there for a demon. It's more like a historical marker you take your kids to and say 'look, this is where it all happened'.

Unless you're a big history buff, it's basically a snoozer.

I take a breath to ask John something, but he's finally gone to sleep. My question dies in my mouth. I'm not waking him up to figure this shit out; it can wait until morning.

I gently run my hand up and down his back, before wrapping it firmly around his waist. Yeah, I'm paranoid, but who can blame me? I'll stay up all night if it means he's safe.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I jerk awake and immediately check John's side of the bed.

It's empty.

"John?" I call, leaping out of bed. The sheets are still warm, so if somebody's got him, they haven't gone far. I can probably catch them before they get out of the base. I'm not going to lose him, not again.

'Scout comes out of the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, making me feel like an idiot. Relief overpowers my humiliation. At least he's okay. I let him spit the toothpaste into the sink before I wrap my arms around him from behind. He looks up and our eyes lock in the mirror.

We look exhausted. 'Scout seems about ready to fall off his feet and I'm not too far behind. He forces a little smile that I halfheartedly mimic.

"We need a vacation," I joke, squeezing him slightly.

"I've never been to Jamaica," 'Scout quips back.

The joke is already falling apart, but I really kill it with, "I should fit right in on the beach."

John grips my arm with both hands and we get quiet.

Should've kept my mouth shut.

After a minute or so, he ducks out of my hold and gets in the shower. I'm not so sure if I'm invited to join him. I stare at my reflection, at the horns standing two feet in the air, at my stone arm. For the first time since this relationship began, I wonder what he sees in me. I have all this power, with very obvious cost, and I can't even protect him properly.

My hand curls into a fist, the stone grinding loudly. I grit my teeth. I'm about two seconds from smashing the mirror when John touches my arm. My anger fades as I turn to him.

"Are you coming?" is all he asks before he goes back to the shower. It's not what he says, its how. I can hear the forgiveness in his voice. I needed it more than I realized.

We get cleaned up and dressed, and then he shaves while I get my horns back under control. I have to replace the sandpaper on my filer once before I can finish. It probably wouldn't have taken as long if I'd broken them off first, but that hurts like a bitch.

By the time I finish, 'Scout's moved on to packing our bags for the trip to England. I smile as the lube bottle hits the suitcase. There's not much of a catastrophe that could affect our sex-life.

"What flavor you bringing?" I ask, hoping for a blush and getting one.

'Scout flushes beautifully and mumbles, "Does it really matter?"

"Nah, not really."

Considering he's the one who goes to get this stuff, I have to wonder how he can get through checkout without passing out. He may be a wild man during the act itself, but I don't think he'll ever get over being embarrassed when it comes to admitting it. Just once, I'd love to see him at the store picking things out. I bet that blush never leaves his face.

I lay a kiss on the back of his neck and head out to fill Leonitus in. I'm only about five steps down the hall when the separation anxiety hits me. It's ridiculous, there's no one who could get inside the Bureau, let alone in and past security to get John. I can't shake it though.

I go back to find 'Scout slightly shaken and following after me. We meet at the door, neither of us speaking our fear.

"I think I'll stay until you're done packing," I mutter.

He nods, relaxing, "Please do."

When he's finished, we make our way to Leonitus's office together. I'm tempted to carry him, but I don't. 'Scout's already been dragged around the base in nothing but a sheet, so I know he'd like to hang on to his last shred of dignity.

Nobody says a thing to us as we walk through the base. Their expressions are so varied, it's hard to pin down why. Some seem relieved; others give me terrified looks. I wish I could remember what I'd done to freak out so many hardened agents. The only thing I can think of is how I'd brutally destroyed that demon, and I can't be sorry for that. I don't care how many agents I scare, I'd do it again.

'Scout's walking with his eyes glued to the floor. He probably thinks those looks are meant for him. I'd bet a huge sum of money that me going monkey shit scares a whole lot more people than him getting a little moon crazy.

I slip an arm across his shoulder and breathe against his ear, "I promise they're not afraid of you."

Even if he doesn't buy it, his eyes say that he appreciates the effort. I don't really get a chance to prove it to him because we get to Leonitus's door. This time, I actually knock. Figure I should show a little respect after completely going over his head yesterday.

"Come in."

John goes in first and gets a smile.

"It's good to see you on your feet, Myers," the general says sincerely, shaking 'Scout's hand.

"Thank you, sir."

With his formalities out of the way, Leonitus turns to me. He seems guarded, like he's not sure what I'm capable of anymore… like I might attack him. I'm starting from square one if he's gotta' learn to trust me.

I don't know what to say to put him at ease, so I just launch into mission parameters, "We need to get the brains together to figure out what Demegov wants. We've got a lot of info and not a lot of answers."

He hesitates, his hands the only things giving him away. They go from resting on his hips, to burying in his pockets, eventually settling crossed on his chest. His face, on the other hand, is set in 'general in charge' mode. Just looking at that expression, you'd never have any idea he was uncertain.

Finally, he asks, "You're back to yourself then, right?"

"Yes, sir."

His eyebrows arch in disbelief, "Are you sure? You don't usually address me properly."

Thank god he's willing to let this pass. I smile a little at his joke and catch 'Scout chuckling off to the side. I guess I really should start showing the man more respect. After all, he treats us well and gives us the reigns over almost everything.

"Sorry about that, sir. I'll try and be better about it." I ignore John's blatant look of shock. Is it really that unbelievable that I'll pay attention to the man's title? Not that I've ever shown much respect to anyone…

Behind Leonitus, 'Scout mouths a question at me that I only half catch, but it's clear enough that he's making fun of my attitude adjustment. I warn him with my eyes and he smirks, but stops.

I get back to business, "John says Demegov mentioned Eden, but that place has been MIA since Genesis. Between Abe and Eon, maybe we can figure out what the hell he's after."

"So you want to take the team to England?" Leonitus confirms, going to his desk to rifle around in the papers.

"Yes, sir."

'Scout perks up, offering, "We'll brief the team on the plane and alert Lazarus that we're coming. Eon's library pretty well rivals our own, but we'll make sure Abe packs the tomes she doesn't have access to."

Leonitus picks up some form and signs it. After a pause, he looks at us like he's surprised we're still here, "It sounds like you have it all planned. Get to it."

"Thanks Leon-" I stop myself before I revert back to being casual. "Thanks, general."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Within three hours, we've assembled a team that isn't afraid to be in the same room with me, gotten Abe's crap packed, and loaded up on a cargo plane headed east. On the way, 'Scout brings the team up to speed. We have so little information that it doesn't take long. When the briefing is done, Abe dives into his books and 'Scout curls up on my lap and drops to sleep almost instantly.

It's a really long, boring flight, broken only by Abe occasionally making soft sounds of discovery. He doesn't really get anywhere before we land (at least not as far as I know), but I think he's got a better idea of what direction to take when he and Eon put their heads together. I'm banking a lot on them being able to sort this out.

I look down at John's peaceful face, thankful that he's actually resting. It probably won't be long before the nightmares start again, but at least he can get a few winks.

I slide my left hand through his speckled hair and down to the collar of his shirt. Pushing the fabric aside, I glare at the symbol that started this mess. The scar of Demegov's emblem is deep and dark, a lot worse than it was when it first showed up. At least it's not bleeding anymore.

Abe sighs and closes the book he's got in his lap. He looks frustrated, if that's even possible for him. "I cannot find anything concerning the original paradise and Lycanthropy. I'll need Eon's books before I can explore it farther."

"Alright," I say quietly, not wanting to wake 'Scout.

I should've known better.

He stirs the instant I talk, trying his damndest to blink the exhaustion out of his eyes.

"Are we getting close?" he mumbles as he lays his head back against my chest.

"Yeah, we're close." I have no idea how far out we are, but it doesn't matter, 'cause 'Scout's out again in seconds. I doubt he'll even remember waking up.

Not long after he's resumed a soft snore, the captain comes over the intercom to tell us that we're ten minutes out and should strap in for the landing. I guess I was right after all. I shift 'Scout into his own chair, fighting against the intense clinginess he gets when he's sleepy, and buckle him in.

I hope they can find something to help him. If they can't, I don't know who else we can go to. My mind turns to my father, to his faith. I close my eyes and beg him to talk to the big guy upstairs, 'cause I doubt he takes requests from someone like me.

- John

When we pull up in front of the Society's base, I push open the doors before we stop rolling. It's been almost five years since the last time we got out here, and I'm pretty eager to get inside. Abe and HB will get dropped in the back, but I just can't wait.

The bakery was redone into a patent office about twenty years ago. Eon sells over five-hundred patents a year for ideas and products that she could come up with in her sleep. As she puts it, 'they're just little formulas that recalibrate a turbine engine to be twenty percent more effective, or a simple device that can keep human organs from shutting down while someone waits on a donor's list.'

She's probably earned enough money with her patents alone to buy a third world country, but I know that most of her real cash comes from participating in think tanks. Eon has had her hand in over forty of the major scientific, medical, genetic, and industrial breakthroughs in the past ten years.

Over all, it's made living conditions for the Society a bit more comfortable than they've ever been. The bakery has been cut down to a reception area and Eon's receiving office, and the rest belongs to the Society. Lazarus still doesn't know what to do with the space.

I go through the front, but I get stopped by the new receptionist. Eon's had the same receptionist since her office opened and this is not her.

"Can I help you, sir?"

This new woman is a stout, stern forty-something who's peering at me over bejeweled reading glasses. I probably look pretty strange just marching through the office like I own the place.

"Eon is a personal friend. She's expecting me," I explain, pointing towards the door leading into the back of the building.

Maybe I should have gone around to the back with Red.

The receptionist purses her lips with obvious disapproval as she scans a calendar on the desk in front of her, "You don't have an appointment."

I need an appointment as a friend? What kind of nut-job does this lady peg me for? I know my hair is probably a little messy from the trip, but I couldn't look that whacked out.

"No, I-"

She cuts in sharply, "Mrs. Andrews is very busy this afternoon. She has a group coming in from America for consultation; she won't be able to fit you in until next week."

"Yeah, I'm with that group. John Myers, BPRD?"

"All it says here is a consult with a Mr. 'Red' and 'companions'," she taps the calendar with a fluffy-tipped pen and circles the appointment like it'll help me understand that I'm NOT in her books.

I'm on the verge of just barreling through the door when Lazarus comes in with a bag stuffed with what smells like confectionary snacks and beef jerky. He's reading the back of a box of nicotine patches, so he doesn't notice me immediately. As could be expected of an immortal man, he hasn't changed a bit since we first met. He's wearing his hair in a choppy, un-styled cut and is currently sporting a goatee of sorts, but otherwise looks exactly the same down to his battered, red Converse.

I stand directly in his way, smiling when he finally glances up.

Lazarus breaks into a massive grin and grabs me into a hug, crowing, "John, old chap, how are you?"

The receptionist scowls a little, probably upset that her limited authority was undermined, but she doesn't argue as Lazarus leads me into the back. I glance down into the bag to confirm the presence of snack cakes. There's a small collection of Hostess equivalents crowded alongside dried meat and a variety of quitting options for smokers. Something's got to be going on.

"What's all that for?" I ask, gesturing at the sack.

Lazarus sighs and gives me a sideways look that screams 'you don't want to know', but he explains it anyway, "Yvette is pregnant again."

I know this story. Yvette's been pregnant too many times to count, but her radioactive power makes it almost impossible for her to carry to full term. She can't get surgery to fix it because her blood would kill her surgeons before they could finish, and Lazarus just heals from any attempts to keep his little swimmers under control.

Miraculously, they had a living child about three years ago that they still can't explain. I haven't met him yet, but I know they're still waiting anxiously to figure out what kind of power will develop. He hasn't shown any signs of Yvette's abilities, so he might very well be chained to the same lonely existence as his father. I know Lazarus is hoping that it's not the case.

"So, where's your crew? We were expecting Red and Abe," Lazarus asks as we reach the kitchen. He starts stashing his purchases, which makes me wonder who exactly they're for.

"They're on their way around. Speaking of crew, where's Torque?" He's always in the kitchen when I arrive, and when I'm here, and when I'm leaving. Torque eats more than a fully-grown African elephant.

Lazarus shrugs lightly, "In Africa somewhere. When we had a run in with his so-called mother, some kind of voodoo witch, he decided to find his roots."

My eyebrows disappear under my bangs. "Voodoo witch?" I ask for clarification. "How does that…" I trail off as Yvette wanders in.

She's got an unlit cigarette hanging off her lip and a small bump showing through her black, sleeveless shirt. Eon figured out quite some time ago that Yvette ages at the half-life of radioactive isotopes. She tried to explain it to me, but I didn't do incredibly well in high school chemistry and it's been a VERY long time since those days. The thing I do understand is that her power is slowly diminishing as she get's older, but her appearance isn't really changing.

Lazarus cautiously takes the cigarette out of her mouth and hands over the nicotine patches and a chocolate cupcake. She takes both silently, barely touching her hand to his shoulder in thanks.

I worry about her, about the toll that losing so many children has taken on her. Over time, she's slowly slid from being tough and take-charge to silent and passive. In certain situations, she can be pushed into her missing attitude, but nobody sees the old Yvette much anymore.

"Hello, Yvette."

"Oh," she stops fiddling with the packaging for the nicotine patches when I greet her. "Hello, wolf boy."

Somehow, I've never gotten past the name 'wolf boy'. I guess it's like Boyscout, it stuck. She doesn't use it often, generally just when she greets me.

"Heard you are having problem with the wolf side," she mentions, slapping a nicotine patch on her upper arm. I don't think she's supposed to use the patch while she's pregnant, but it's probably the least of her worries.

"More than just a problem," I admit. My mind flashes to the blood running off me in rivers in the shower, the complete darkness in my memory of that night. "I'm a little desperate for answers."

My ear perks at the heavy tread coming down the hall. For a brief second, I think it might be Torque, but Red's scent reaches my nose just before his arm slips around my waist.

"Crispy, Yvette," HB greets them casually.

In his wake comes a stampede of Eon's grandchildren. They vary in age from six to a toddling two-year-old. We've only met the oldest, but they've been around so many strange things that a giant, red demon looks more like a jungle gym than a threat.

Maya, the oldest, launches herself at me first, the two younger siblings leaping onto HB's back and trying to crawl up his legs.

"What the hell?" HB grunts as the toddler yanks his tail. He turns and picks the baby up by the hem of her jeans, holding her at eye level. Instead of cowering or crying, she giggles and claps her hands, her golden pigtails swinging wildly in her excitement.

The boy at his feet tugs on his pants desperately for attention, hollering, "Me next! Me next!"

Maya hugs my on my neck. I'm surprised she remembers me, considering the last time I saw her, she was in diapers. "Uncle John!"

"Hey there, kiddo," I say distractedly, watching HB struggle to wrangle the children with more amusement than I should. He's not cut out for kids. He can crush monsters, stop evil plots against the world, and banish demons back into hell, but a toddler is WAY out of his league.

The little blonde snags a handful of Red's sideburn and I decide that it's time to save him from the print-sized 'monsters'.

"Come here munchkin." I take the girl, glancing over at Lazarus as I try to confirm, "It's Eliza, right?"

Lazarus nods.

I shift Eliza onto one hip and hang onto Maya with the other arm. HB raises an eyebrow at my juggling act and I mutter, "I'm good with kids."

We don't talk about the fact that I want kids. It's for the best that we haven't taken a step in that direction, considering the life we live, but it doesn't keep me from aching anytime we leave these kids and go home.

A gigantic shaggy wolf pads down the hall, probably following the trail the children left. At twenty years my junior, Zachary Andrews is still considered fairly young by werewolf standards.

Dr. Andrews adopted Zachary from the Siberian wilderness when he was just a pup. Being raised in England and America gave Zachary impeccable control over his notorious Siberian temper, though he is still a force to reckon with, but not because he could spread Lycanthropy, like me. The Siberian strain is purely genetic, which means that Eon is still very human, but their kids and grandkids have bipedal forms.

Zachary scoops up the boy that's still trying to climb on HB, transferring him from clawed hand to gently gripping his overalls in his teeth. He sort of eyes me like he doesn't approve of me holding the girls. We've always been at odds, but we've never fought. Eon had a bit of a crush on me in her late teens, and I think that's partly where it comes from.

Siberians usually choose their mates when they're just children and follow through once they're older. So, in his mind, I was competition and I don't think he'll ever get over that.

I refuse to acknowledge Zachary's dominant stare, asking Red, "Is Eon already working with Abe?"

"Yeah, they started the minute they got together."

"They'll be at it all night," Lazarus adds absently. He's staring at the door Yvette just disappeared through. As the kids started playing, a pained expression had ripped across her face and she'd excused herself without a word.

Zachary nudges Lazarus with his muzzle and Lazarus takes the little boy from him. "Thanks."

Watching Lazarus rub his face into the boy's stomach to the chorus of giggles, it dawns on me that this is his kid. He's got Lazarus's bright, green eyes and I'm assuming what must be Yvette's natural hair color. Just looking at him, nothing strikes me as unnatural about him. There must be something that allowed him to survive where the others didn't, but it's not obvious. He looks and acts like a normal, three-year-old boy.

"This is Jackson," Lazarus introduces him as he swings the boy upside-down by his feet.

Jackson is squealing wildly with delight, "I'm a tick-tock! I'm a tick-tock!"

Maya sighs at him, the bossy side of her grandmother very clear in the way she corrects him, "You're a clock, Jackson. Tick-tock is just the sound they make." It makes no never mind to Jackson, who goes right on screaming 'tick-tock' until Lazarus puts him down.

Little Eliza taps my shoulder and, in the broken English of a child, says, "Do that tick-tock, please."

Zachary lifts his head from where he's laying in the corner, giving me a warning look. He's normally not so defensive in my presence. A little wary, yes, but not to this degree. Instinct is telling him that something is wrong with me. I can still smell the blood on me from a few days ago and I don't doubt that he can too.

"Why don't you let Lazarus do the tick-tock? I think he's better at it than I am." I set both of Zachary's grandkids on the ground and he immediately lays his head down, but his steely eyes are glued to my every move.

Pressed against my right side, I feel Red tense slightly. The tip of his tail is curling minutely, giving him away. He just might say something to Zachary, so I decide to disarm the situation before it gets bad, "I'm going to go check with Eon and Abe." I kiss Red firmly and pull away just enough to warn him, "Be nice."

Red hangs onto me when I start to pull away, murmuring in a low voice, "He's glaring at you. What the hell's his problem?"

"I smell different," I explain in a whisper against the side of his face, shifting onto my toes so I can get my arms around his neck. "Don't worry about it. He's not going to attack me; he's just concerned about his pack."

"I thought you were part of his pack," HB grumbles.

I smile a little, but I can't force the sadness out of it, "I've never been part of his pack." Our mouths meet and linger, and I slip out of his hold to head for Eon's library.

Zachary follows me.

Before I get to the end of the hall, however, he's disappeared into another room. It's a very definite show of dominance, and a subtle threat. My presence here is making him nervous.

Though I'm older than him, and have a bit more fighting experience, I'm still no match for him. He outweighs me by about a hundred pounds, not to mention the fact that his bipedal form is twice the size of my four-legged version. But something that changed is making me a threat.

The fact that he's afraid of what I might do makes me extremely anxious. I don't think I would (or could) hurt my family here, but there's that chance… If I killed someone when I got out the other day, what would keep me from doing it again here?

I stop to lean against the wall, my stomach churning with uncertainty. Nausea swells as images of blood and gore edge into my mind. I straighten up at the sound of footsteps, turning to meet Zachary eye to eye. He's put on pants since he shifted, for which I'm grateful, but he's glaring me down. I fall back a step in response. Zachary is built like a tank, even pushing fifty-something. He could probably tear my head off my shoulders with one hand.

"If you turn feral with my granddaughters here, I will not hesitate to put you down. Am I perfectly clear?" he growls low in his throat.

"Thank you," I mutter, genuinely meaning it. Frankly, part of me is relieved. If I do lose control, Zachary can (and will) keep everyone safe. He doesn't have the same barriers as HB or Abe would in putting me out of my misery. I hope that's not going to be necessary, but at least I know he's up to it.

Zachary is taken aback by my reaction to his threat. He was probably expecting something more akin to cowering or groveling. His expression completely loses its edge as he repeats, "Thank you?"

"Yeah."

The confusion seems to pass and his alpha side takes over again. "Honestly, John, you don't act like a feral wolf. You don't have any of the habits, the weird ticks that tend to develop. This smells like a totally different animal altogether."

His ears perk just slightly and his body goes rigid. A half-second later, I can hear it too. It's a long, loud howl.

It's a call to arms.

Zachary's icy eyes flick over to pin me against the wall. I thought he was furious before, but this rage is so intense that my blood freezes.

"What did you bring down on us? Who are they?" he roars, slamming my shoulders against the wall.

We're both silent as uncountable voices answer the first call. I can only think of one thing: Demegov's army of wolves. There's not enough time to explain all of that to Zachary.

"Listen to me, get Eon and the kids and get them somewhere safe-" My warning dies off in a groan of pain as he shoves me back hard enough for my skull to crack the drywall.

"Who are they, John? Tell me."

I'm very tempted to grumble something inappropriate about his Siberian-bred attitude, but I bite it back. I've got enough enemies right now and I don't need Zachary to be added to that list. "They're a pack from America someone tried to pass off as my acts of violence. They're puppets controlled by a man named Demegov and they're getting closer every moment," I growl back at him, my temper slipping out of my hold. "So you should probably let go of me and get your family to fucking safety!"

We glare each other down, but I'm the one to break eye contact. I hate being submissive to this pup, but Red is coming towards us and he looks pissed. I have to get this argument over with before my lover beats the living shit out of Zachary. We need him upright if he's going to fight the pack that's coming.

With a snarl, he shoves me a little and let's go. He disappears into the library before Red can grab him.

"What the hell was that all about?" Red asks, checking me over despite my complaints.

I grab his hands so he'll stop fussing over me, "Demegov is coming. People either need to get armed or get out."

"What? How can you know that?"

"I can hear the wolves he's bringing with him."

Another howl pierces our conversation. It's much louder and closer than the first and, judging by HB's reaction, he can hear it too.

"Crap," he groans, pulling out his gun. "You're sticking with me."

I follow him down the hall, trying not to be agitated with his protectiveness, "Red, I can take care of mys-"

He turns on me, his expression so hard and uncompromising that I can't raise my voice against his. I've never had him so mad at me. "I know you can take care of yourself, but this guy is after you, John. I'm not going to give him the chance to…" Hellboy trails off. The hard lines in his face start to soften as we study one another. This argument is as old as our relationship and we've smashed through this verbal path too many times to count. Somehow, this is different. Now I'm being targeted, not just thrown into the violent mix of our everyday life.

He slips a hand into the hair at the back of my head and lays an extraordinarily gentle kiss on my forehead, whispering against my skin, "I want you safe."

I nod mutely. At least I'm not getting shoved into the holding pen with the kids. I've come too far to go back to the days of, "Step back John, you can't handle this (fill in the blank) monster."

On the other hand, if I'd been the 'stay at home wife' like he wanted, I wouldn't be in the trouble I'm in now. I couldn't stand a life like that, but I can see the perks. My mother used to say that I was confrontational. It didn't mean much in a family of people that would all silently sit around and read books during get-togethers. If I said a word contradicting my father's opinion about a show on TV, I was confrontational. If she saw me now, she might call me some stronger words than that.

I trail in my demon's wake, watching his tail twitch apprehensively. He's not worried about the coming fight, I know better than that, he's worried that he'll turn around and I'll be gone. Maybe his fear is well founded. I don't think I'm strong enough to… If I start thinking like that, I'll never make it through this battle.

Zachary is just taking the kids out of the kitchen when we arrive. Someone went and got the receptionist from the front and she's hustling along behind Zachary with the youngest in her arms (she's surprisingly cool for being in a situation that most humans think is monster movie material). They're probably headed to Yvette's room. Since the walls are lined with lead to protect everyone from her power, it's the best stronghold they have.

Eon is motioning orders at Lazarus, Yvette, and Abe. I start translating to HB, "She wants you and me on the front line with Zachary, since we can't be infected. Yvette will snipe them from the roof, using Lazarus as her power source." I wince for Lazarus, knowing how many times he'll die this afternoon. "Abe will be watching their backs and Eon and Rex will protect the children."

As Eon motions at her feet, the invisible beast flares with color. The spines on his body have doubled in number since the last time I saw him and his color isn't nearly as brilliant in his old age, but those teeth are as terrifying as ever. I don't doubt that he can still hold his own.

"Let's go," I say, touching Red's arm.

We stop briefly at the supply room to change our rounds out for silver bullets, and then head outside. I was expecting chaos, wolves scattered everywhere, but everything is silent. I don't let it lull me into relaxing. I can smell the wolves hiding in the shadows; hear their ragged breaths and low growls. They're all over.

"Where the fuck are the bastards?" Yvette's voice echoes across the parking lot, shattering the calm.

They come in waves across the road, slithering out from between buildings and jumping off roofs. There's got to be a few hundred of them.

"Dear God," I hear Lazarus breath, just before every other sound is overwhelmed by the growling, breathing, heart pounding orchestra headed towards us. I barely hear the click as I load a bullet into the chamber. They just keep coming. Has he changed the entire town?

Beside me, Red raises his gun and Zachary rips into his wolf form. I stay human. Something about this attack is making me uneasy. Demegov is not one to lay all his cards out at once. Such a blatant frontal attack screams 'trap' to me.

I focus on slowing my heart and raise my guns as the first of them hit the parking lot pavement. The big grey one in the lead becomes my target. I take aim at his head and exhale as I squeeze the trigger. He goes down like a ton of bricks.

Before I can get off another shot, they're on us. Energy flares from the roof, dropping four and five of them at a time, but it's barely noticeable in the hoard. Zachary digs his claws into a male's jaw and rips it clean off. Blood showers his fur.

I maneuver so my back is against Red's. The wolves seep into the space I left. Bodies pile up around us, but the wolves just crawl over their dead pack members. They're not like anything I've ever encountered before. These creatures aren't real wolves; they're just puppets on invisible strings.

I move my guns in arcs, focusing on the closest. Not every shot is a kill and it's really becoming a problem. The ones I hit in the shoulder, in the chest but not the heart, they're getting up.

HB cusses and slams into me hard. His weight knocks me into the mass of teeth and claws, but before even on falls on me, I'm ripped free of them.

I give Zachary a thankful smile and stick a fresh clip into my gun. We're getting swamped out here. There's no way we can keep this up, they'll just keep coming until we're all dead.

Red's grappling with a wolf that's trying to break its teeth against his stone arm. He's already criss-crossed with claw marks. Unlike Zach and me, he's not healing. I know Red can take a lot of damage, but he's not invincible.

Wait… away from the others, it dawns on me that I'm not getting attacked. I look around me at the circle of wolves. They're completely still, watching me. There's not a single space in their line, not a place I can squeeze through.

"John," Red shouts, but his voice sounds miles away.

I turn to follow the hundreds of gazes. There's a silhouette on the rooftops, barely a spec in the distance, but I know who it is. My guns fall from my slack hands. A shudder rips through me as the heat starts in my shoulder.

"Oh God," slips out of my mouth.

Against my will, my wolf roars up my spine. My muscles tighten to near breaking point. I fight it, but it makes the pain ten times worse. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Red struggling through the masses towards me. I must look pathetic, losing a battle against my wolf. I mouth, 'I'm sorry', because I know I'm gone. Demegov's strings are tightening around me and I'll be just like them.

My mind goes blank just before the fur spreads across my skin like wildfire and the other wolves close in around me.

My brothers.

My pack.

TBC...
- 5
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- 7
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Between the Lines: Sequel to Somewhere Between