Alpha Xander: His Contracted Luna

In a basement with twitching bright at the four corners of the ceiling. She had her hands and legs tied in vines. Her head was sweating and her mouth was dry. She would pass out in a minute. She prodded her head against the wall to get the attention of her captors. They were so engrossed with their dealings with witches they didn’t take one look at her.

“Finley made it clear didn’t he?” Ophelia snapped.

“That was the plan,” Marco interjected. “And the wolves you trusted… those goddamn mutts didn’t show their faces.”

She hadn’t had anything other than lemonade on the lake shore last evening. Her voice was shaky under her breath.

Ruben sure makes the best of those.

“What was the plan, Marcus?” Ophelia shook her head. “This wasn’t the clean sweep you intended. You even got railed into a tree by a werewolf.”

“At least I killed him,” Marcos grumped. “You had that pretty boy wolf to deal with and you couldn’t land a scratch on him.”

The head of the black cloak dashed into the room in a flash. In Eve’s eyes, she saw him as a blur. A blurry image like a smeared fresh painting.

“Now that you have got this out of your system,” Finley let down his hood. “Mayfair will tell us what to do with her,” the three turned to face Eve lying on the ground across them.

“She is worthless,” Ophelia hung her cloak on the wall. Her inner cloth; a camisole, revealed the blood watermark on her shoulder blade. Finley and Marco, as well as the others with them, should have this embedded in them.

This is their hideout. It looks clean for a basement-too clean. I wonder if they devour all their victims under this cool ventilation and lighting.

“We can feed her to the others,” Marco sat on the steel chair by the table. “If she is that worthless.”

A dark cloud emerged from the ceiling. It surrounded the lot in the room. Marco dashed out. Ophelia rushed to lift Eve on her shoulders.

“Don’t run, it is Mayfair,” Finley dropped his palms on the table.

The vampires came back to the center of the room. Mayfair’s body took its form before them. She was in the appearance of the old witch yet again. No ravens, no feathers, no sheaths, just a frail pale-skinned old woman, dark treacherous eyes, and a brown scarf round her neck to go with her haggard sleeveless apparel.

“Well shit,” Marco dropped to his seat making a screech on the tiled floors.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

“What?” Ophelia palmed his shoulder.

“I didn’t know she was this old,” His eyes widened. “Witches are supposed to be sexy with all that Mesmer-you know what I mean?”

“I can look as sublime as a transient young lady Marco Van Piers,” Mayfair made hollow cast beside him.

“Jeez,” Marco frisked off his seat. “Don’t do that again. I am warning you, witch.”

“You fret too much,” Mayfair teased.

“How the hell do you know my name?”

“She knows everything there is to know,” Finley brought out a seat for the old witch.

“I don’t sit with the likes of you,” Mayfair held out a dismissive wave. Finley returned the seat to his side. “Not that I mean to smear your name in the dirt. The blue bloods have existed for quite some time.”

“That’s right old witch,” Ophelia sat the other way round on the seat, with her arms on the back-rest. “Our legacy speaks.”

“Ophelia Deschanel… I hate to break it to you, but you will not live to see tomorrow,” the old witch uttered unequivocally.

“Haha… That’s some bullshit right there man,” Marco slapped his palm on his thigh. “Listen to me, you witch… you don’t come here saying what is and what isn’t. Finley, what is this all about for real, I thought we were gonna sacrifice that werewolf, to search for the sacred girl you were talking about man?”

“We are,” Finley breathed out. “I have guys searching all the way far north… they may even find something up in the mountains.”

“I wish to not intervene in your matters, but the werewolf you brought for me is the wrong girl,” the old witch crinkled. “I thought you could deliver Manson?”

“It was the description you gave us Mayfair,” Finley stood up from his seat. The others followed suit. “It was not to decipher the cryptic message but we did… and her face was at the end of the vision you gave.”

“What are you going on about, witch?” Ophelia grimaced.

“I thought van Piers over here would have something to add,” the old witch rolled her eyes at Marco. “She is the girl alright I just wanted to test your confidence for a change. I know you vampires have a cold heart but your blood runs hot.”

“And never runs dry,” Marco grinned. He was ready to take on the witch on Finley’s call.

“I can dry yours up in a splint of a second boy,” Mayfair smirked.

“Man I don’t like how this bitch is playing with us,” Marco muttered to Finley.

“I can hear you van Piers,” the old witch cast a shadow behind him.

“I warned you not to,” Marco’s fangs seethed. “This was the last string,” he groaned and charged at her.

Finley just folded his arms and watched. Ophelia was right behind.

‘What the hell?’ Eve moaned on the cold tiles across the room.

Marco was fast and quick to make contact with his fist. His hand went through her like a smoke. She vanished right in front of him.

“Bold of you to assume you can take on a witch,” Mayfair tittered in the atmosphere of the room. Her voice went round the ears of the vampires.

Ophelia took a step forward, “Show yourself a witch.”

“I’d suggest you stay away from this Deschanel,” the witch warned hovering above her like a dark cloud. “Your end is near, don’t meet it now.”

“Finley, what does she mean?” Ophelia glared at her sire.

The filter was unmoved. He sat back on the steel chair and crossed his legs. He folded his arms and smiled in amusement.

Ophelia was infuriated.

Marco ran about every corner of the room. Mayfair could pop out of nowhere. He wasn’t taking his chances of getting caught off guard.

“You don’t scare me, witch,” Marco gnashed his teeth.

The dark shadow descended upon him. The weight restrained him to the ground. Although it wasn’t physical, it held weights down on him.

Eve was inches away from Marco. She heard the shuddering of his breaths.

Marco was slowly suffocated. He couldn’t turn his head to the side. The bones in his arms and legs were slowly crushing against the floor.

“Finley?” Ophelia yelped.

She knelt by him, “Tell her to stop,” she begged. “He’s in pain.”

“He wouldn’t die from it,” Finley rubbed his eyes. “And besides, I am not the one calling the shots.”

“Do you wish to know hold your Elders in high regard?” Mayfair took the form of the vampire. Her foot was on his head. His skull would be crushed if he gave the answer she wanted late.

“Yes, Mayfair. Yes.”

She hovered to meet Finley at the center of the room.

Marco groaned in pain. She hurt him in a way his healing would take a toll on him.

Ophelia rose steadily to her feet and sped across the room to help Marco.

“I hate to break it to you this late,” the old witch smacked her lips. “That girl brunette you got tied up is an acquaintance of ours.”

“Oh wow… never imagined us partnering with werewolves,” Finley rubbed his chin.

Ophelia helped Marco hold Marco’s arm over her shoulder, walking back to the center of the room. If she ran fast on her feet. Who knows, she might bump into one of Mayfair’s hollow cast. And that will meet a disappointing end. Marco already suffered a deal for mismanagement of words.

“That makes me sick to my stomach,” Ophelia frowned. “They are our worst enemies Finley.”

Eve was from. She felt the pain all over her body desperate on the floor. Her body ached and she couldn’t trace where the pain was coming

“And before I fail to mention, we already injected her with wolfsbane to keep her down for the day,” Marco groaned. “Take that as a rude introduction brownie,” Marco turned back and gave Eve a wink.

Ophelia set out another steel chair. Marco sat to recuperate. She just rested her bangs against the wall.

‘Fucking wolfsbane. That explains it,’ Eve sat down with her head up against the wall.

“She talks,” Ophelia scoffed.

“Might I add… she is a ratchet claw,” The old witch inched forward.

“Of the ratchet claw?” Marco folded his arms on his chest.

Ophelia had a smug on her face.

Finley was eager to hear from Eve.

“She and the others got separated for a reason they haven’t made known to me yet,” Mayfair made a hollow cast right next to Eve.