The Wolf's Call to the Moon Ch. 02

"Alessa, get everyone to rendezvous at the baggage collection in ten minutes." Jamie loosened his tie in an attempt to look relaxed after the four hour flight from Istanbul to Gatwick airport.

His petite secretary nodded before scuttling across to the immigration checkpoint. She did not wish to have a giant wall clock tossed on her desk again should she fail to meet his timeline.

Scanning the passengers trickling out of the Airbus, Jamie waited until Mallory came to view. Her eyes were almost a dull mossy hue, accentuated by the heavy darkness just lurking beneath her lashes.

"Let me carry that for you," he offered, gesturing to her rust-coloured rucksack. Not many women favoured the bulky contraption but for some reason, Mallory could never part with it.

She made a casual grunting noise before begrudgingly handing over the bag to him. Today was not the best day for arguments. Now that her feet were on land once more, Mallory could feel the pressure in her chest loosening. Airplane cabins were too stifling for her; the compactness like an icy grip around her windpipe.

After passing through border control, they made their way to the baggage carousel where the rest of the team were being herded efficiently by Alessa. Murmurs of protest died the instant Jamie cleared his throat.

"We're going to have the attention of the academic community here and I cannot stress how important it is that we do not leak any uncleared information to the public." Jamie looked at each and every one of his team members to ensure that they knew the consequences of such a breach of this trust.

Disagreements rippled through the team. Some were of the favour that they should have just remained in Turkey if the aim was not to have their work judged by the public eye. Others mumbled that despite having access to the best archaeological resources in the world, none of the actual publications would be of any value to the academic world if they withheld information.

"Enough!" Jamie kept his voice level; his frustrations bubbling just beneath the surface. This was why Elders in his position never took any interest in the mundane world of the humans and the lesser races. They were frustrating and needed to be guided and told what to do all the time. Jamie didn't have much time. He knew what was needed.

Closing his eyes, he simply erased any further thoughts anyone had about his ruling and leashed their will to his. From then on, they would do as he says without them even knowing that it wasn't their choice to begin with.

"Is everyone in agreement with this?" he asked again, smiling to himself when he received unanimous nods from the group. Jamie almost couldn't contain his smirk when he dismissed them. Weak minds were so malleable. They made it too easy for him.

However, there was one particular mind that he found extremely difficult to control and he attributed it to his emotional investment in Mallory.

An open mind appeared fluid and penetrable like a bubble filled with water, with thoughts floating in a mess of twirling smoke. Memories appeared as doors with no locks and feelings tinted the bubble with various hues depending on the individual's mood.

But for Mallory, her mind was a glass orb, making it possible to see in when unclouded but impossible to penetrate. His only option of control over her was to encapsulate that orb under a blindfold –one that easily slipped, allowing her periodic autonomy of her consciousness.

To him, she represented a fluttering butterfly in a glass jar. Her captivity antagonised him and yet it enraptured him. Her presence created fractures in his control but for the sake of what she meant to him and to his plans; he was willing to allow such an imperfection to persist.

"Mallory, would you like a lift to the campus lodging?" It was a useless question because both of them knew that he had arranged for their accommodations to be located side by side. It had infuriated her when she had found out and it had taken him an expandable amount of power to keep her under leash, just enough to make her say yes.

"I don't see any reason to refuse," she said politely. "I'm too tired to argue with you at this moment."

Her words left a tinge of guilt in his heart but he brushed it aside. A mind that tried to resist his control always worked the hardest and he knew how much he had pushed her.

Closing his hand around her arm, he guided her to his car and allowed the deafening silence between them to linger for the remainder of the journey to the university.

***

The five Light Walker scouts, headed by Jean-Pierre, their most senior tracker were also making their way to Cambridge. They had been given two days to assume the identities of five international students who had just been accepted as undergraduates at the prestigious institution.

It had taken a lot of persuading and political threats by the Shadow Lords to have such a covert operation allowed on the grounds. This was possible seeing that Alexander, the Alpha of the Light Walker clan in Europe was an important stakeholder in all the European institutions, not only the universities but also the prisons, hospitals and even the political and economic domains.

"It is imperative that you blend in with the students. Dress like them. Talk like them," said the senior tracker.

Like all trackers, Jean-Pierre was born with theobfuscateability which he exploited on a daily basis. At the moment, he was a fourteen year old petite brunette with eyes as big as saucers and hair tied in braids. Accompanying him, the other trackers were disguised as his parents and siblings.

Handing them each a file, he continued, "According to Alkina, our main purpose is to shadow the human historian and her tech team to uncover what they have excavated."

"What exactly are we expecting to find?"

Jean-Pierre turned to the only female tracker in the group, Sophie and smiled. He had always been against having a female in his team seeing that trackers could assume any identity but he acknowledged that she was the best fit for this particular assignment.

Sophie had a beguiling face with cheeks that were still pouchy like a child. The innocence she naturally portrayed was further augmented by breasts that purposefully spilled at the top of her tank top. According to Jean-Pierre, she basically looked like a virgin who had a body built for sex but did not know it.

Men would blab just about everything in her presence and college boys would be lining up outside her room to do just that.

"Alkina thinks that the sarcophagus houses the lost remains of one of our race's most important relic. Our job is to ascertain what it is and if it is a threat to have it in the possession of the humans."

The group stared at him, surprise clearly etched on their face. The Shadow Lord relic was something so legendary, it was only supposed to be a myth.

"What do we know of this human historian?" asked another tracker, Eduard the youngest of the team.

Jean-Pierre leaned back in his seat, the crease in his forehead uncharacteristic of the young girl he was personifying.

"Not much is known about her. She grew up in an orphanage and has no known permanent address –not surprising seeing that her work takes her everywhere. But to be honest, that alone sets red flags in my head." Jean-Pierre would keep a close eye on her personally. "The fact that she is far too young to be recruited for such a prestigious excavation also baffles me."

Sophie frowned at his analysis and countered, "What if she is not as young as you think?"

Everyone looked at her, knowing that she was implying something more sinister. Jean-Pierre shook his head disapprovingly.

"She is human, as far as the intel comes." He paused deliberately. "But... I will personally sniff her out to confirm otherwise."

***

Tracking Mallory had not been easy, seeing that her scent was swathed by the stink of a Risen but Clay managed to track her to the campus of the Cambridge University. He had originally intended to corner her at her off-campus accommodation but the scent of the Elder was too strong and repugnant there that he had to reign in his wolf several times in order not to barge into her room and take her out.

The beast within him did not understand the fragility of the situation but the human part of him did. He needed her to be alone, where she was not under the influence of the Elder. To do so, he had to find out just what she would be doing at the campus and where he could chance a meeting.

Walking down the brownstone arched corridor, Clay caught snippets of conversations from students ranging from their class schedules to the upcoming visiting professors. Deciding that this was the best place to pick up on gossip, Clay conspicuously leaned against one of the brick pillars and did his favourite thing – people watching.

A few male students passing by gave him a thumbs up. He obviously looked out of place, albeit rebellious, with his low-slung cargo pants; tie-dye t-shirt and beanie over his shoulder length dark curls. Seeing a group of girls passing by, Clay lowered his sunglasses to wink at them, rendering them in giggles behind their books.

He continued watching the students and staff behind the anonymity of his shades when his ears pricked up at the mention of Mallory's name.

"Yeah, I heard that Professor Albert won't be teaching us this semester. There's a visiting professor called Mallory Roux coming and I'm actually quite excited! Her expedition team is using one of the labs here to study their archaeological findings so we'll get a chance to sit in! Oh my god I am so excited! Did you know she wrote her first academic paper at the age of 18?" chirped one of female student.

"Whoa, that's some amazing shit. I suppose that's why they made us do that special entry test for this class."

Clay remained in his position, arms folded across his chest. Sneaking into this class of hers might be the perfect opportunity for him. If his instincts were right, the Risen would allow her complete autonomy in this class for he had surely vetted and approved all the students prior to their move here.

Whistling a silly song to himself, Clay tucked his hands into his pants pocket and started to saunter out of the campus. Amazing; he didn't even know she was a genius in her field. Feeling the rush of adrenaline hit his veins; Clay decided to do his research on her.

***

Head drooping over his laptop, Clay was about to fall off his chair when his alarm rudely woke him up.

"Fuckin hell..." he groaned, lifting his head slightly to inspect the noise. "Can't a wolf get a little bit of peace and quiet...?" His head slumped back with a thump on the desk.

Daft Punk didn't think so for it blasted the alarm at him once more.

Tapping his fingers blindly to look for his mobile phone, Clay almost growled at the pesky device. "No one's getting lucky dude so shut up."

It was only then that he realised the time.

"Damn it! Mallory this is all your fault," he muttered as he jumped off his seat and ran to the bathroom to get dressed. There was no way he was going to miss her first class of the semester – especially not after he spent the entire night reading about her and her work.

When he finally made it to the auditorium, class had already begun. Slipping into the back entrance, he melded into the shadows and simply watched his woman of interest.

"As I've mentioned, historical sources have many forms – material, textual, representational and oral." Stepping away from her projector, she began to quiz a few students for an example of each of the types she mentioned.

"All your examples are so boring," she mocked moaned as she settled herself at the edge of the stage. "If I were your history student, I'd be bored to death by now."

Clay couldn't help but chuckle to himself. He didn't think anyone could be bored when taught by someone so energetic such as herself – she was never in a position for more than 5 minutes; always moving around, interacting with a student.

"Okay, so I'm going to claim that... the internet meme is a representational source of history."

Chaos ensued. Some were giggling; some furiously typing on Google search to confirm her claim and some just stared blankly. But most had their hands up, prepared to challenge her statement.

The discussions that followed made him proud that this woman was his; she was a glow in his heart. Both man and wolf were enchanted by her voice, her intelligence and most of all her gentleness as she went about teaching her class.

When the students had finally trickled out, Clay stepped out of the shadows and made his way down the auditorium to where she was busily packing up her things.

"Hi."

Startled olive eyes looked up at his and she took a step back – akin to a prey recognising a predator in its midst.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," he whispered softly.

Regaining some composure, Malloy shook her head and smiled at him kindly. "No, I apologise. I thought everyone had already left –but clearly I was wrong."

Clay watched her brows knitting as she studied his face more carefully, as though trying to match him to a distant memory in her mind but when she shook her head silently, he knew she had yet to remember him.

"I enjoyed your classes. You speak with such passion for something so..."

"Dead?" she supplied, laughing slightly at her own joke. The wolf inside of him sat at attention, deciding that he liked her laughter very much. It sent him ideas of eliciting those laughs just for himself.

"I'm sorry. I make such bad jokes I know," Mallory said suddenly as she awkwardly started to gather her things again. Clay was confused by what she had said until he realised that he had been staring at her blankly for the past few seconds that she must have thought he was bored by her.

"No, no I was thinking of someone that you reminded me of," he replied gently, coaxing her out of her embarrassment.

Mallory wasn't easily fooled. She gave him a once over, unsure what to make of the hipster getup. "You don't look like you belong in this class."

Instead of justifying his actions, he gave her a big grin.

"I heard there was a really beautiful new professor and I just had to find out if the rumours were true."

Her face flushed red but she betrayed no embarrassment. "I see. And what did you find out?"

Clay's grin only widened further. She was playing with him.

Giving a casual shrug, he replied, "I don't know yet. I'll have to crash your classes a few more times to give you a definitive answer."

She arched an eyebrow at his response then started to laugh; the sincerity lighting her up from inside. "Alright now, I have to go. It was nice talking to you..."

"Clay."

"Clay," she whispered, giving him a polite nod as she exited the room.

Alone in the auditorium, Clay took in her lingering scent with a big smile. She may not have remembered him, but at least she had not been afraid of him.

That was a start.

***

The next few days consisted of the same routine. He would come down to her after class for a casual few minutes of chat before letting her pack up to leave the room. Even though he sat right at the back, his face mostly in the shadows, he knew that she always sensed him there as her eyes would flick up ever so often to make sure he was listening.

And he was. Every word.

Today she had brought in digital analysis of the sarcophagus that her team had extracted back in Turkey.

"Before the development of such technology, researchers in this field were never able to map out an entire mummy without having to dismantle the artefact. Nowadays, we can begin to study the artefact without even having to open it," she shared.

A hand shot up. "But what's the fun of having a treasure you can't open?"

"Ah, but like all treasures, there will always be a key. Having x-ray scans will reveal the level of puzzles that we need to decode before actually opening the tomb. Many historians in the past have made mistakes and in doing so, ruined a precious part of our past."

For their assignment, she had given them a few sets of common codes and puzzles that entombers used to leave behind as a safety precaution against thieves and the likes. She promised them that whoever solved the codes first would be allowed to be present with her and the research team when they start to open the sarcophagus.

Clay wasn't much of a history buff but he loved puzzles and his mind whirred in excitement at trying to break the codes she had given the class.

"Do you think the human mind is capable of locking itself with similar codes like this?" he asked when all the students had finally left the auditorium.

She looked up at him and pursed her lips. "Well... I wouldn't be able to give you a scientific answer to that. I am not a trained psychologist or neurologist."

"How about an educated guess?"

Mallory gave a considerable pause as though thinking of the best way to answer him.

"I suppose... it is possible. Trauma and PTSD have been known to create a sort of 'lock' on memories in some people. It takes certain triggers for the memory to resurface. For instance, I'm sure you've experienced a sudden flashback when you scented something familiar or find yourself in a familiar location."

"Always."

In that instant, Mallory felt like those sky blue eyes of his were looking straight into her soul, as though he was recalling a distant scent and smell of her in his memory. She knew she should be feeling uncomfortable, yet she couldn't take her eyes away from him.

She could feel his gaze like a warm caress on her skin and for a moment she wondered what it would be like to have those strong muscular arms wrapped around her; her body moulded into the protective span of his defined chest...

"Mallory?"

She almost scowled at him for interrupting her thoughts. "Yes?"

Clay did his best to hide his amusement. He had caught her eyes roving along his torso; the silhouette visible given his choice of the stretchy polyester shirt. Giving a straight face, he decided it was now or never.

"Have a bite with me?"

Mallory narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. Oh, he had chosen those words on purpose! She'd admit that she wouldn't mind a bite... or two.

"Yes."

This time, Clay couldn't resist a chuckle. He had never seen Mallory reduced to one worded syllables and his wolf particularly enjoyed teasing her like this.

Unaware that his hands had found hers, he led them out of the auditorium to the nearest café.

***

Jean-Pierre was seated alone at the campus café, trying to break the code that Mallory had assigned to them. It had to be either him or the other four scouts who'd break the code first. To help them along, Alkina had given them access to all the scholar libraries, even that of the other clans. The other Alphas had been reluctant initially but she had convinced them that if her hunch was right, protecting their histories would no longer matter if they were all dead.

Jean-Pierre was not one to question the female Alpha, even when she had no direct authority over him for he had always been impressed by her resourcefulness.

He had no idea how she managed to get them access to files from the vaults of the now extinct Ombre clan; the pack executed for treason. When he had asked how the files would be of use, she only told him that a limited mind was of no use to her.

Determined, he sat fiddling with the last piece puzzle when he noted Mallory walking towards the café with a man he had not seen before.

Her face was tilted in his direction; her eyes lit with laughter. She was skipping slightly as though to catch up with his broad pace.

Suspicion grew within the senior tracker. According to his file, Mallory was single with no significant others. But by the way the man was echoing her laughter as he casually stroked her arm, signalled a layer of trust and... familiarity.