Sui Generis – 15

 

Brand was in the kitchen when he heard the front door open. He set down his drink before going into the living room, trying to stay calm while praying it was Mag. He has to come back. I need him. I can't do this without him. I can't. Those words had run though his mind over and over since Mag had stormed out of the house.

"You came home," Brand said when he saw him. He didn't know whether to be elated or terrified Mag was going to be there just long enough to pack up and leave again.

"I did, and I brought a friend." Mag beckoned to someone still outside, stepping aside to let them enter. "This is Antton Ochoa," he told Brand, by way of introduction. "It seems," Mag smiled ruefully, "there are things beyond what most people really believe."

Antton stepped forward, holding out his hand to Brand. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last."

After warily shaking Antton's hand, Brand asked, "Who are you, exactly?"

"He's a werewolf," Mag said, before Antton could reply. "No, I'm not crazy. I saw him change." He hurried to Brand's side, hugging him tightly. "And if I'm not crazy, I guess you aren't either."

"Thanks for that," Brand said wryly, putting his arm around Mag's waist when he seemed about to step away again. "Would I be pushing things to ask why you brought him home with you? He could, after all, be working for Fedor."

"I could," Antton agreed. "If that was case, however, Mag would now be sitting in solitary confinement at Fedor's lair."

"You know where that is?" Brand asked, hoping against hope that he did.

"From what Mag told me, no more than you do. However, I suspect the knowledge is somewhere in your mind, but blocked by Fedor."

"That does us a lot of good," Brand muttered. He looked up at Mag and gave a small chuckle. "You're the nurse. How do we unlock it?"

"Unfortunately I'm not training to be a psychiatric nurse and even if I was, I doubt that's something I'd have been taught—not in my freshman year, anyway."

Brand nodded, returning his attention to Antton. "You still haven't proven, to me at least, that you're trustworthy."

"And how would I do that?" Antton asked a bit sarcastically. "Being what you are, you know I'm not a vampire. You know Fedor is. I could still, as has been pointed out by Mag, be working for him for reasons of my own."

Brand studied him, slowly nodding. "No, you're not a vampire, and Mag says he saw you change. It could have been a mind trick however."

"I can't control your mind, so if you want me to prove to you that I am a werewolf, I will."

"I might agree with you about the mind control, if I hadn't been in Fedor's clutches. He shouldn't have been able to do that to me, but he did." Brand finally released his hold on Mag so he could pace. He thought better when he was moving. "How did you know where to find Mag, and as a corollary to that, how did you know he and I are—together?"

"As I told Mag earlier this evening, I was eavesdropping and followed him when he stormed out of the house. I originally knew you lived here by following my nose. I can scent another werewolf a mile away or more, even if their scent is as strange as yours. I need your help, but I had to be certain I could convince you to give it to me, since it was obvious that until tonight, you were keeping things secret from Mag. Right now you may be the only link to finding Fedor."

"Now hang on a minute," Mag said in shocked surprise. "He…" Mag turned to look at Brand. "You said you were a dhampir. You never mentioned the werewolf part."

Brand's mouth tightened. "That was the reason why I didn't want to talk about what happened with Fedor—what he did to me."

"He turned you into a werewolf? Are you shitting me?"

Brand barely smiled. "I wish I was."

"Why?" Antton asked. "Wait, let me guess. He thought he could use you to find us. A werewolf, with the powers of a dhampir, but able to use those powers to find and eliminate those of my kind. You would be a fearful foe; just as you were to the vampires you hunted."

Mag frowned, again. "When did you hunt…? Oh, hell. That's why you'd up and disappear sometimes then come back with some lame excuse about seeing someone you thought you knew." 

Brand shrugged. "I figured it was better than saying, 'I'll be right back after I take a vamp's head'."

"Well, yeah, but damn, Brand." Mag tapped one knuckle against his lips. "Antton says you're a bit older than you look."

"That was off the wall but yes, about forty years older," Brand agreed. "And… okay, don't shoot me."

"Would it do any good if I did? Even if I had a gun I don't think I'd have silver bullets to use on you."

Antton chuckled. "They don't need to be silver."

"Another myth?"

"Let's put it this way, if you hit his heart, he'd probably die, just like you would. The same holds true for vampires to some extent, although they are allergic to silver, so it takes them much longer to heal if you cut them with a silver blade." Antton glanced at Brand. "Which, I presume, you have."

Brand nodded. "Don't all dhampir?"

            "Nice to know," Mag muttered. "Where the blazes did you…? Never mind, you can tell me later. So, back to what you were saying. Why would I be shooting you, Brand?"