Sui Generis – 14

 

Antton smiled wryly. "If you're ready to believe the unbelievable."

"That Brand's a dhampir? I know he believes it. I'm not all that certain I do, even after what you've said."

"He is."

Mag studied him. "And you're what? A vampire? Is that what Fedor is—or what he thinks he is?"

"I'm the opposite end of the spectrum, a werewolf."

"Uh-huh."

"Would you like me to prove it?"

"If I said 'yes', you'd tell me you can't right now since there's no full moon."

"A myth, one of too many." Antton studied Mag in return. "I think, perhaps, you do need proof, if you're going to believe." He stood again, glancing around. "Come with me." He pointed to a small stand of trees at the back of the park.

"As if. One thing Brand and I did figure out. If Fedor gets his hands on me, he'll have a hold over Brand to make him return to the fold."

"And still, you haven't run away from me."

"Yet," Mag replied.

"Yet. All right, you sit here and watch, where it's safe." With that said, Antton moved swiftly to the trees. Standing between two of them, where the shadows were deep, he looked back at Mag.

At that moment, Mag realized how silvery-blue Antton's eyes were. They seemed to glimmer, even in the dark. More so, in the dark, which is weird. Almost instantly, it wasn't Antton standing there. Instead a sleek wolf with the same eyes looked back at Mag. "Not possible," he whispered unbelievingly.

"Possible," Antton said moments later, returning fully clothed to his human form. He walked back to where Mag sat, eyeing him warily as if he thought he would turn tail and run.

"If I hadn't seen it happen…"

"But you did. Now do you believe?"

"I'm… It could still be a trick. You could have hypnotized me somehow, the way you said Fedor did to Brand, to make him forget where Fedor had kept him prisoner."

"He didn't hypnotize him, he enthralled him. It should have been impossible, considering what Brand is, but Fedor is very old and very evil. Brand is still young." Antton chuckled. "Although not as young as he looks, I'm afraid."

Mag gulped. "How old?"

"Fedor? Well over three thousand. Brand? He's been around for, I believe, sixty years, give or take a couple."

Mag buried his face in his hands, trying to take in everything Antton had said—and done. Finally, he looked up at him. "I suppose you want to come home with me."

Antton chuckled. "You make it sound as if I was a stray dog."

"More like a stray wolf," Mag said, suddenly bursting into uncontrollable giggles. "I don't think… we have… a collar and a leash, but…"

"Not funny," Antton grumbled, but he was smiling. "Yes, I'd like to come home with you. I need to meet Brand and all three of us need to talk."

"My mantra with him," Mag said, sobering. "Maybe you'll have better luck than I have."

"We can only hope."