"And for a moment it seemed
to me as if I also were
buried in a vast grave
full of unspeakable secrets."

~~Joseph Conrad

****************

~Nova~

"If you don't stop pacing, I'm going to duct tape you to the wall," I growled, blinking my dry eyes at the laptop screen.

The repetitive footsteps stopped only to turn around and approach the table where I had returned to a few hours ago after my blissful reprieve in the guest bathroom. Nevada's hand waved in front of my face and I glared up at her.

"If they needed us, they would tell us," I told her impatiently for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Don't you think we should be included in whatever they're doing?" My sister shot back, folding her arms and returning my glare.

"I don't think there's anything we can do." I pressed my lips together in frustration and scrubbed a hand over my tired eyes. "The vampires obviously weren't looking for us, so why dwell on it?"

"Because I'm stressed the fuck out!" Nevada snapped as she threw her hands up in the air dramatically and stomped her foot. "I hate being in the dark!"

"Why are you yelling at me? I didn't do anything!" I yelled back, my body tight with repressed emotions. Taking a deep breath. I forced myself to calm down. "If you want to know so badly, why don't you go in there and find out what's going on?"

"Because I wasn't invited," she mumbled, plopping down in the chair beside me. "I don't want to be in the way."

I snorted in disbelief and shook my head. "They're talking defense strategy, Nev, not plotting a siege. I doubt you'd be in the way. The only reason I'm not in there is because I have better things to do than discuss protection details that we've gone over a million times already."

Taking a swig of my newest energy drink, I focused back on the computer in front of me. I had spent hours trying to trace any signs of my father's name or a possible source that the media had gotten their information from. So far I had come up with absolutely nothing and it was grating violently on my nerves. My few computer classes at the university hadn't quite given me enough skill to quickly hack into the police department handling the investigation and I regretted not taking more hours when I had the chance.

"Are you having any luck?" Nevada asked timidly after several tense minutes of silence.

"No. I'm not good enough for what I'm looking for," I sighed, finishing off my drink. "At least that's what I'm thinking anyway. Either that, or there's no trail to find, and it's just someone using word if mouth and paying off the right people which sounds more plausible."

"Whoever is behind all of this seems smarter than the average criminal," she agreed, grabbing me another drink from the fridge without being prompted. "You can't sit here forever doing this."

"I know that and I don't plan on it," I admitted, popping the tab on the can. "Thanks, by the way."

"You're welcome." Nevada returned to her chair and looked longingly at the door. "Do you think they're hungry?"

"I am."

"You're always hungry," she scowled playfully. "I just want to help."

"I'm sure we will when the time is right," I assured her, my fingers flying over the keys. Adrenaline surges through me as a whole new window popped up. "Shit, I think I'm getting somewhere."

Nevada scrambled out of her chair and peered over my shoulder as I squinted at the screen. Window after window was suddenly opening and peppering the screen, filling every inch and overlapping others. My hands stopped moving, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I tried to figure out what was happening. Whatever it was, it wasn't something I had done.

After a few minutes, the pop ups stopped and I was able to start sifting through whatever had been sent to us. Images and video files littered the screen, along with documents and other files I couldn't even begin to acknowledge. Just as I was about to click on another window, a message appeared in the center in bright right letters.

Nothing is as it seems. Be careful who you trust and who you call your enemy. Darkness is coming and it's time to learn who your allies are.

Nevada and I looked at each other, neither of us sure of what to do. It could be a trick, or a virus meant to wipe the entire system clean. But what if the information was real, vital intel that we needed? Taking a deep breath, I moved the mouse across the screen and clicked on the first image window I saw.

A picture opened, filling the screen with what looked to be an old hand written letter or journal entry. The parchment it was created on was yellowed with age, the edges torn in places and the spiky words faded but not illegible. Slowly, my hands trembling slightly, I began to read.

June 1526,

I was traveling to the market in Deltrum last night when I encountered a young boy. At first I mistook him for a wild animal, something injured and in need of a merciful end. But upon closer inspection, it was just a small boy, wounded and bloody and clearly in need of nourishment as his small body was nearly naked and I could count his bones. He wasn't afraid of me which I found odd for someone so small, but I took him home with me.

I thought he was a fae, his energy pattern telling me as such after a good meal and a warm bath. But he is so much more than that, I can feel it. He has yet to speak, or tell me what misfortune had fallen upon his young soul, but there is still no fear to be found. I have no idea of what his name is or where he comes from, but this boy is the most unique creature I have encountered in the two centuries I have lived on this earth.

The gods have a plan for him, I'm almost sure of it, but without the knowledge of how he came to be in such a state... I don't know how to help the boy. Maybe in time he will give me his name, if I can build a trust between us but he seems reluctant to trust even the smallest gift of food.

The rest of the document was cut off by the edge of the camera that had taken it, and I quickly searched for another similar image. This parchment was much shorter than the one before with only a paragraph to fill the yellowed page.

April 1526,

I think the boy is a hybrid! By the gods, I don't understand how that can even be possible as he has a heartbeat and the powers of a fae. But I'm nearly certain that I witnessed the young lad feeding from a small rabbit just moments ago. He can't be a vampire as he is still growing, much taller and his build firmer since the day I found him. If only he would tell me his story, or even his real name, maybe I could find the answers I seek without frightening him away.

"What is all this?" Nevada whispered over my shoulder, clearly just as fascinated as I was.

"I don't know," I answered honestly, wondering what any of this had to do with us or why we would even care to know about this strange child.

After a few more clicks, I found another document similar to the other entries and began to read.

September 1537,

The blasted boy burned down my cart in a fit of rage! Nothing but smoking embers left of what used to be! This is the fifth fire this week and I know the others were most likely at his hands, but he still won't admit it. His affinity for fire has mutated into a pyromancy on an entirely new plane of existence. As a warlock, I know I can bind his magick but it seems such a cruel thing to do to someone. If only he would tell me his story, maybe I could help. But would he let me?

"Nova? Who would send this to us?" Nevada questioned as I skimmed through more windows.

"Someone that knows we're here obviously," I replied as a newspaper article caught my eye. "I wonder what we're supposed to find?"

Adrenaline coursed through every cell in my body, my neurons firing frantically as I tried to comprehend all the possible implications. Was this like a scavenger hunt with only one clue hidden in the pile, like a needle in a haystack? Or was all of this leading to one sole conclusion?

I clicked on the window that held the news article, a scanned copy of what appeared to be the front page of some local paper that was dated just over three hundred years ago. History had always been slightly fascinating so to have such things right under my fingertips made me giddy with delight. I felt like a kid in a candy store who was also trying to find the end of a maze. There was a small section at the bottom of the image that was circled, if it hadn't been then we probably would have looked over it.

Elven Community Attacked - Six Dead

A small Elven community at the base of the Folmorian mountains was attacked three days ago. Stories have spread that the guards surrounding the village were incapacitated but left alive as an unknown intruder proceeded to make his way through the village. Witnesses described the suspect as a tall hooded man who posed himself as a traveler. It wasn't until early the next morning when the huts belonging to the town elders was found aflame that the community realized that the man was nowhere to be found. The elders of the Elven community were later found dead in the ashes of their homes, their charred remains bound to their beds and mouths gagged.

It left for a violent and painful scene but no leads as to the suspects identity has been discovered or to any possible motive. The elders were well loved within their community and no one has had anything but kind words to speak of the slain men. To all that read this, please beware of strangers in your midst. Although no one else was harmed in the violent acts, it is safe to say that this wandering stranger is dangerous.

The article ended and I sat back heavily in my chair, the wood creaking beneath my weight as I read the words again. This sent my mind in another direction, wondering if our unknown sender was trying to warn us against this person instead of painting them in a safe light. Could this be someone we need to be aware of? Was this killer still alive?

"What's that?" Nevada asked, cutting into my thoughts as she pointed to another window.

Following her curiosity and pushing my newest questions aside, I enlarged the file. Another scanned image erupted in front of us, this one of a handwritten letter.

February 15, 1770

Dearest Abigail and Richard,

I write you this as a goodbye. You may never get this letter but I hope that someone will one day find it and deliver to you.

You are the loves of my life and I regret with my deepest sorrow that I did not take you both as mine. The gods are punishing me for forsaking their gift of two true mates and following my packs desires over that of the gods'.

I only have a few moments to write this as we are under attack, but I wish to tell you how much I love you both down to the last threads of my soul. Oh my sweet Abigail and handsome Richard, please find happiness again, together, and keep me in your heart.

The Pack Killer has come for us, my father and his men were found slaughtered in the banquet hall just moments ago. I don't know what we have done to bring such ire but knowing my father, it is probably well deserved. I will take my punishment for rejecting you, the gods enacting their anger because it is what I have earned.

The other two packs, the bears and the wolves, were obliterated entirely except for the cubs. I have no doubt the same will come to us Panthers as we have never been kind to anyone different from us.

My heart and soul belong to the two of you, my beautiful loves. I hope someday you will forgive me for the pain I have caused.

Forever and Truly Yours,
William

I could feel the pain in the author's words and the fear hidden beneath. This man, William, spent his last moments of breath writing a last love letter to those he loved. It was astounding that he had two mates at the same time but after Robbie's path to find me, I didn't question it. Anything was possible, especially when the gods deemed it so.

"That's so heartbreaking," my sister sniffled behind me. "Two mates and he couldn't have either of them. He had to say goodbye in a letter of all things. And look at the blood on the edges!"

I followed the direction of her finger and sure enough, blood had soaked into the bottom of the parchment and drops were splattered here and there around the words. This man's story had ended in death if the blood was any indication. Had his lovers felt his death when the moment came?

"Such a sad story," I whispered, my own heart aching for the strangers. "I wonder if it is the same person in all of these stories."

"It has to be, doesn't it?" Nevada asked, pulling a chair up beside me and falling into it. Her eyes were red rimmed as she looked at me. "If it was all about more than one person, how are we supposed to figure it out? There haven't been any names, right?"

I shook my head and looked back at the laptop. "Not yet."

Nevada and I sifted through the files, finding a few different newspaper articles about the massacre of three different shifter packs; one wolf shifter pack followed by one bear shifter pack, and lastly was the extermination of the Panthers. In each one, only the children were left unharmed, although I assumed they were a bit traumatized. They had all been blindfolded by an unknown assailant and tucked away in a safe place. Houses burned to the ground with only small children left behind to breathe through the ashes the next day.

None of the children were able to describe the attacker or have any idea what the motive could have been. Whoever it was, covered their tracks but left only the innocents alive but unable to identify them. It was odd, and I was suspecting there was more to it than what the articles had described.

"There's a pattern," I mused, more to myself than to Nevada.

"Fires," she agreed and I saw her nod in my peripheral.

Chewing absentmindedly on my thumbnail, I flipped back through the files we had already examined. Each story, moments of loss frozen in time, had a fire involved in some way. It started with the small fires from the unknown boy but later escalated to deaths covered by the cremation of the victim's home.

"It's the boy, I'm almost sure of it," I told her, my thoughts tripping on each other as I tried to fit all the pieces together. "But who is he?"

"You're right!" Nevada exclaimed, leaning forward. "Either that or there's more pyromaniacs out there."

"That's possible, I guess, but that seems... Why would someone send us a bunch of information about pyros? What purpose would that serve?"

"I don't know," she agreed, slumping back in her chair like a deflated balloon. "We have no idea who the kid is or where he came from so if he is the one that killed a bunch of people, how are we supposed to know if he's on our side or not?"

"Do you think...," I started to ask but trailed off and resumed chewing on the tip of my thumb, almost afraid to voice the thought.

"Do I think what?" I could hear Nevada's apprehension trembling under her words.

"Do you think it's someone we know? Like someone we already think is on our side?" I finally asked after a hesitant minute. "I mean, the message said it was time to learn who our real allies are. Maybe it wasn't someone we don't know. What if it's someone we think should be on our side but isn't?"

I finally met her questioning gaze, a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth as she contemplated my words. We barely trusted anyone as it was, but what if one of those people were actively working against us and we didn't even know it?

Nevada ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "I don't... I don't think I can handle any more... betrayal. There's already been so much, Nova. I hope you're wrong."

I nodded, unable to bring myself to push the topic further as I looked back at the data compilation filling the small laptop screen. Like my little sister, I hoped the idea was wrong, but after everything that's happened lately, anything was possible. Our circle was already so small. Was someone really plotting against us, right under our noses?

"Let's finish this before we jump to any more possible conclusion," I finally said, shaking the dark thoughts away for the time being. "There's still more to look through and who knows what we'll find next."

"Down the rabbit hole we go, big brother," Nevada sighed reluctantly, leaning forward again as I clicked on the next file.

********************

A/N: 😈😈 *rubs hands together* ooh it's getting good!

Richard - pronounced REE-shard
(it's a French pronunciation)

Let me know thoughts, theories, opinions.

Thanks for reading. The next chapter is already in progress and I hope to have it finished soon!

XOXO🖤❤🖤❤

~SM~