Satyr Play 03 Pt. 01

"New York," she clarified.

"Shit!" Roy snarled quietly. He looked to Camila again. "Why did he hurt you?"

"I suspected he was looking to expand into our territory, and I tried to talk him out of it, appealing to his reason especially considering the heightened tension globally, but he was too far gone in his dreams of conquest." She sighed as the next part was not going to go over well. "I told him he'd never take Manhattan as he wasn't strong enough."

"WHAT THE FUCK?!? You directly challenged a Were?" Are you suicidal?" Roy snapped.

Camila remained quiet as she held Roy's eye.

He took deep, slow breaths to calm himself, eyes focused on the tabletop. Once he was collected again, he looked at her. "You obviously survived."

She nodded. "I had to fight my way out, but Henry's gift made that possible. I was tempted to kill Carl--" She raised a hand at Roy's choking noise. "...but I wasn't sure what that would do to his pack."

"It wouldna be good!" Roy stressed. "They need a leader, and it has to be another Were. Carl's territory is too big. Take him out without someone to take the position, and the pack dissolves with a bloodbath as they fight for dominance. Breaking down an oversized territory has only happened once in my lifetime. It wasn't done lightly and took strong leaders working together to keep the peace while they subdivided the territory, choosing new leaders for each through managed dominance tournaments."

"Did you participate?" Henry asked, his fascination plain on his face.

Roy looked at him and relaxed with a smile. "No, lad. I was a mere pup at the time. About your age."

Henry nodded, then heard the gentle jab. "Hey!" he said in protest. He wanted to say more in his defense, but he had nothing to refute the words. He heard Roy's chuckle and felt better.

"Carl now knows the kitten has claws," Roy said, looking back to Camila.

She nodded, but she didn't smile as she understood that she might have just confirmed for Carl the rumors of Roy's enhancement. Not that she'd had any other choice. She sighed as she had more potentially bad news.

"When I arrived at the restaurant last night, I was riding a high from a feeding." She didn't bother mentioning from whom she'd fed as everyone knew. "I had a surplus, so I wasn't able to suppress the effect. I'd tried to burn it off in the gym beforehand, but there was just too much. At the restaurant, I bumped into the head of the Succubi Association, Nuru Onwudiwe. She was senior to Marquise Oletha Thanemark by a century, at least. She was displeased that I was emitting more power than someone my age should. Her two attendants were also quite put off. There was nothing I could do. I paid my respects, but I was meeting Carl, who was watching. I couldn't show weakness, and I wasn't able to reduce my power levels. When I went to join Carl, Nuru left with her attendants. She was not happy."

"Is she going to be a problem?" Sigrid asked. She knew Succubi didn't really maintain an official organizational structure but power levels defined authority for those that cared. Oldest was typically the strongest, which gave them the authority to represent the group to ensure the rights of all Succubi were represented. When these same leaders were able to separate their longevity from their power, this made for better leaders. When they were obsessed with their power, this made for poor leadership. She didn't know which category Nuru fell into.

Camila shook her head hesitantly. "It shouldn't. I sent her a note apologizing for any perceived disrespect and explained as best I could without mentioning Henry or Wild Magic. Nuru has been a reasonably stable representative, but she may show up if she feels I'm making a play for her position." She held Sigrid's eye. "Her attendants are expert spear fighters."

Sigrid just smiled.

"I believe Henry has something to tell us," Roy said to the group, and all eyes turned to Henry.

He looked at Roy in surprise them looked to the others. "Uh, yes." He cleared his throat and sat forward a little in his chair, suddenly nervous. He took a deep breath and began.

He described meeting Dayshia as he sat on the bench the night before and the subsequent encounter with Roger.

Roy leaned forward. "You say he was hiding in the shadows about to attack, and he appeared to have long claws?"

Henry nodded. "Dayshia said she felt his intent to attack. I saw his claws as he fled."

Roy was frowning as he ran scenarios in his head. He looked at Henry at last. "I need you to try recalling something for me. Think back to the night of the first murder, which happened just steps from your place. You said you were sitting on the bench with Ikehorn. After the Fae left, did you pick up this sensation of being watched then?"

Henry blinked at him in surprise. He closed his eyes and took his mind back into his memories. He recalled being excited that he could connect to his daughter. That warmth spread across his chest again. He'd walked towards the building and-

His eyes snapped open. He had felt he was being watched! The tall, dark figure walking away, down the pathway towards the alley... moments before the murder.

"You remembered something," Roy said. Henry just nodded with a stricken expression. "He was there, wasn't he." Henry nodded again.

Tears began to slowly drip down Henry's cheek as he suddenly realized Roger had been there, had been watching him, and based on his actions last night, most likely killed those two kids. What had he turned Roger into? Did that make him responsible for those murders!?! Suddenly, there wasn't enough air in the room. He began to hyperventilate.

Roy and Sigrid rose out of their chairs and pulled him up to wrap their arms about him. He clung to them as the terror, remorse, and grief rocked him.

"What's wrong?" Mahati quietly asked Camila as she struggled not to rush over to Henry's side as well. She noted Camila was settling back into her chair. She'd obviously been about to go to the distraught man herself. The CEO just shook her head as she watched Henry with a sad expression.

His friends holding him didn't speak until his gasping subsided, and the tears slowed. They just held him.

Finally, they stood back to give him a little space. Sigrid took Henry's chin in her fingers and lifted it until she could see his eyes. The pain in them almost made her want to cry, as well.

"Get the idea that you're responsible for this out of your head. That's not true. You weren't even aware that Roger was in Tish's hospital room until you saw him on the floor. You said yourself, Kesini was the one who dosed him. You also didn't make him into what he's become. You know it's random.

Most importantly, the change doesn't steal your free will. You're still the same person inside. Dayshia protested her change the most, but she's not only accepted it, she's using her abilities for the betterment of all," she insisted.

Roy took over. "Seeing Roger the night of the first event doesn't mean anything as you couldn't have known what he'd be capable of doing. The boy sounded like he was a little touched in the head to begin with. His obsession with conspiracy is a prime example of that."

"I-I'm the source of the wild magic!" Henry forced out of his tight throat.

"Aye, courtesy of the witch! She gave you no say in that!" Roy spat, his distaste for Baba Yaga clear in his tone.

Sigrid picked up the conversation. "Henry, you aren't a source of Wild Magic. You just have a lot in you. You seem to collect and attract it."

He shook his head. He recalled Siobhan's words from the night before. "I have a rift to the Wild Magic dimension inside me. That's why I'm so charged with the damn stuff!" he muttered angrily.

Roy shared a shocked look with the others, then held Henry's eyes. "Who told you something crazy like that? Was it the witch?"

Henry realized he couldn't divulge the source. He'd promised he wouldn't, so he just shook his head and stared at the table surface. His mind spun with his realization that Roger was the serial killer, the product of the magic within him.

He knew he hadn't chosen what Roger became, and he knew Sandy, Dayshia, and Tish hadn't become evil. They were still beautiful people. Roger's obsession with conspiracies must have taken a seriously dark turn when he changed. He just couldn't shake the feeling of being somehow responsible, or at least involved.

The others just shared another concerned look between them as Henry went silent.

"Are you responsible for the sunrise? For the cycles of the moon?" Mahati asked Henry sternly.

He jolted slightly as he stared at her. "N-no!"

"You built a brand new network for VRL. Are you responsible for how the users use it every day?" Mahati continued with her interrogation.

He shook his head, but she gestured to her ear. "No, I'm not," he agreed.

"Have you control over the intentions and will of others? Are we all puppets to your whims?" she pushed.

"No! Of course not!" he gasped.

Mahati crossed her arms as she continued to hold Henry's eyes with hers. "So, we agree that there are things far beyond your control. Even those things you were directly involved in?"

Henry jolted again. "Y-yes..."

"Was that a question, Mr. Gable?" the lawyer snapped.

"No, I mean, yes! W-we agree," Henry stammered.

"So, there is no need for so much... navel-gazing?" the dark beauty asked finally as she hunted for the words.

Henry couldn't keep the small smile from his face at her awkward wording. "You are correct. Thank you." Mahati nodded firmly at him. He felt.... better! "Would it be okay if I gave you a hug too?"

"You may not," Mahati insisted as her dark skin tone deepened.

"Oh, sorry," he said with a blush.

"Perhaps you have work to do today?" Mahati blustered.

Henry nodded and smiled at the others as he made his way to the door and out.

Once the door closed again, Camila looked at the lawyer in outrage. "All he asked was to show his appreciation with a hug."

Mahati's eyes flashed at the CEO. "You three are too soft on the young man!"

Roy snorted and hid his smile as Sigrid's eyebrows went up. "What?" the tall blond gasped.

"You heard me! Henry is too kind-hearted and gentle. You three keep him this way by handling him like fine china. He needs a firmer hand to help him become stronger."

Roy nodded firmly. "Yes. You're right. We have treated the lad a little too gently. It's excellent you brought this to our attention, and I'm glad you're taking his best interests to heart. It's a load off my mind, to be sure, that you'll be with him on the trip to Washington, DC."

Mahati smiled gratefully and nodded to the big redhead. "Thank you. It will be a learning experience for both of us. I'm sure Henry will appreciate the guidance I can provide."

Camila gave Roy a puzzled look but schooled her expression when she caught the twinkle in the redhead's eye. "Y-yes, thank you, Mahati."

Sigrid was still bristling as she watched the smiling lawyer stand and leave the room.

When the door was closed again, the tall blond turned on Roy. "What the hell?!?"

Roy chuckled and held up his hands in defense. "Have you no eyes in your head?" he teased. "The woman was going all gooey when she snuck looks at Henry in the meeting. Now, she's taking an active interest in his well-being. That's a far cry from the attitude she presented on her first day when she attempted to kill him. I do feel better about her protecting him in Washington."

It was Camila's turn to chuckle as she stared at Roy in delight. "Who is this man, disguising himself as VRL's brusque Head of Security? He's much too aware of girly things like emotions and sensitivities."

"Hush, you. I'm just looking out for VRL's future. Henry is as closely tied to that as any of us. Besides, he's like a son to me, and I agree that we sometimes do treat him like fine china," the big man admitted with a small smile.

"I think Henry is perfect as he is! There's no need to change him!" Sigrid insisted indignantly.

Camila grinned. "Well, there's proof that Mahati's efforts are going to be in vain."

Roy and Sigrid looked at her questioningly.

"If Henry can wrap a Valkyrie around his little finger, what chance does a Nāga have?" the CEO quipped.

Roy burst into laughter at Sigrid's sweet pout.

Chapter 16

Roger screamed into a pillow as the pain surged along his raw nerves once more. When the latest wave passed, he slumped on the dirty sofa cushions and panted.

He had severe, blistering burns across his back, his ass, and a stripe across each thigh.

But the worst of them was across his face.

He should have listened to his instincts. He'd been preparing to grab Henry last night as he talked to the weird cat when Dayshia intervened. She'd walked up to Henry, and they spoke for a moment before walking towards his building. Roger's first reaction when he saw Dayshia was to flee. His instincts were rattled by the sight of her and screamed at him to leave quickly and silently. But he was so sick of living in squalor he decided he could take them both. Dayshia was no longer Human, but he couldn't bring himself to eat her. He'd planned on just ending her suffering as the monster she'd become. He needed to question Henry. The man had all the answers.

She must have felt his attention as she suddenly turned, and there was pain. It tore across his face, and as he ran from them screaming in agony, the pain returned to rip across his body. He barely managed to get away.

He found his clothes tied to his bicycle and got dressed as quickly as possible, but the pain was intense. He rode away, each pedal stroke was pure torture, but he pushed through it.

It took all night, but he made it back to the dump he hid in during the cruel hours of daylight.

Roger needed to eat. He wouldn't heal if he didn't eat. But he couldn't go out in the daylight. He'd have to wait until nightfall.

Then he'd hunt.

The next wave of pain was beginning, so he bit down on the pillow and screamed.

-=-

The squad car rolled quietly down the alley between the derelict homes. The occupants, two street cops with decades under their belts, kept a careful watch for ambush. They knew the man they were visiting had a bad habit of shooting at uninvited visitors.

"When was the last time you spoke to Rawlie?" Officer DeAngelo asked his partner, Officer Blane, as he nervously scanned the building's windows from the passenger seat. They were the odd couple of their precinct. Blane was a huge man with a large frame and muscles turning to fat. DeAngelo stood 5' 7" and had a slim physique.

Blane squeezed the wheel in his big hands and frowned as he tried to recall. "Shit, it's gotta be at least eight months?" His voice was deep and rough from vocal cord surgery years ago.

That brought a scowl to DeAngelo's face. The two men used the hermit as a source of extra income, unofficially collecting rent for allowing him to live in the condemned building. With the extra hours they'd had to put in for the bloody serial killer hunt, they hadn't been able to get back to their rent collecting. "So, we gonna take eight months of rent from him?"

Blane glanced over at his partner. "Yeah. I gotta pay for my kid's music lessons. Fuckin' brat."

DeAngelo chuckled. "Shoulda thought of that before ya knocked up Bernice!"

"Hey! She was a beauty... before she got fat... and mean," Blane growled quietly, which made his partner bark a laugh.

The cruiser stopped on the gravel drive behind the derelict house, and they got out. Walking towards the back door, they continued to scan the windows with their hands resting on their guns.

No sign of Rawlie.

Resting on its side next to the back door was a fat tire bicycle. The two cops glanced at each other as it looked like a high-end model. Blane frowned as he squatted down to touch a spot of something red on the saddle. He brought his finger up to his nose and sniffed.

"It's blood, and it's still tacky," the big cop said.

"Must be a rough life, livin' off the streets and bein' a hoarder." He scowled as he shivered. "Shit! Let's get this over with. I can't stand the fuckin' smell of the guy."

They entered the building and immediately stopped as they heard an odd sound. Muffled screaming. They shared another glance and pulled their weapons.

The rank stench of mildew, mold, rot, and burnt meat made DeAngelo suddenly cough and gag. Blane shot a quick glare at his partner as the screaming suddenly cut off.

They cautiously moved down a hallway, trying for silence, but that was impossible due to a thick layer of trash on the floor. The hall ended at an open doorway leading to a kitchen. On the right wall was another entrance much closer to them.

They stopped just before the right-side doorway. All they could hear coming from inside was a steady ticking, like a clock, but slower.

Blane gestured he was going to look inside, and his partner nodded. The big man ducked his head around the doorway for a quick look, then pulled back. He looked to DeAngelo and shook his head. The clicking continued.

Blane turned once more to the doorway, and his gun preceded him into the room. He stepped through the entrance, boots crunching on bits of broken plaster scattered on the floor.

DeAngelo moved to put his back to the wall across from the doorway, gun aimed away from his partner's back. He noticed some falling grit and dust landing on Blane's shoulders and looked down at the plaster chunks on the floor. He opened his mouth to shout a warning when Blane spun and looked up at a crunching noise above and behind him. He tried to raise his weapon, but a dark shape dropped on him and savagely bit down on his shoulder.

His gun went off, then went spinning off into the room as he lost strength in his right hand. He was dragged to the floor by his attacker. The agony in his shoulder got worse as whatever was attacking him rabidly chewing on him, snapping bone, slashing muscle, and cutting nerves and blood vessels.

Blane lifted his head to call DeAngelo for help, but he saw his partner sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall, blood gushing from the bullet wound on his neck. The shot officer's mouth worked, but no sound came out. Blane was on his own.

With a mighty roar, the big cop drew upon his ogre strength and pushed himself to his feet, staggering under the bulk of his assailant. Turning slightly, he charged across the cluttered room to slam the creature through the wall into the kitchen. Wood and plaster exploded, cabinets full of rotting crap crashed down on them, and the thing released its grip on his shoulder. Blane pushed himself back to his feet but wobbled as his head spun from blood loss. He viciously kicked the creature in the ribs, hearing a dull snap. As he tried to plant a second kick on the broken rib, the thing suddenly shifted to the side, grabbed his leg, and stabbed its long claws deep into Blane's inner thigh. A great gout of blood followed the claws when they ripped free.

Blane staggered back and fell as his injured leg gave out. He crashed against an old fridge and slumped to the floor as he felt his life draining away. Turning his head, he looked towards his partner up the hallway. His eyes widened as DeAngelo wasn't there. The outer door was slightly ajar. He'd gotten out! Blane had to give his partner time to call for help.

Wearily, he turned his face back to the creature, which struggled to free itself from the rubble.

"What the fuck are you?" Blane spat as he held onto his consciousness.

The thing stood as it kicked loose from the broken cabinetry, then it faced him. Red eyes. Terrible burns on its face, long bloody teeth, and those sharp claws. Blane shuddered.

"What an unexpected gift! A monster that came to me!" it said, shocking Blane. He thought it was just some kind of beast.