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Royal Scales
Once Lost Lords; Chapter 11 - Built All Wrong

Once Lost Lords; Chapter 11 - Built All Wrong

Locations were categorized into two types when tracking. Those that received attention from law enforcement, and those that didn't. Reasons for not reporting varied from alarm systems, personal armies, or lack of caring. The hotel that Francis hunkered in was fancy enough to be one of the former. Barging in and believing I owned the place was easier in some run down dive. Caesars Junction was a perfect example.

Controlling the situation should be easy. My clothes and some Sector issued cuffs would solve most issues. These cuffs were designed with wolf countermeasures reserved for law enforcement. The slightest twisting out of shape on them would result in little bumps of sharpened silver coming to the top. It was designed so that those points would cut into the flesh of whichever person was unlucky enough to wear them.

The Head Alphas attempted to get them outlawed every year. Every other government branch focused on control of unruly Pack members. Normal handcuffs were a joke against wolves. These would keep Francis in check.

I had to get inside without hotel security calling the police. From there it was a short hop to the hallway where Francis had parked himself for the night. Getting past the hired goons would be easy enough. What better way than to pose as a fourth thug? I looked the part with my perpetually recovering features.

Getting in was simple. Walking in the lobby and straight for the elevators didn't set off anyone's mental alarms. It was easier to be ignored by hotel staff if I pretended nothing was wrong. Acting like I belonged, not hesitating, not moving too fast or too slow. This was me pretending to be a man returning to the hotel after a late night.

My footsteps, my hallway, my target, my prey, mine.

Carpet is thin, worn. Walls are layer upon layer of papering held together by glue. People behind closed doors snore, chat on phones, stare at ceilings.

Cameras hung above the exits. Getting out the standard ways would be difficult. Especially if Francis was no longer among the living.

Just off the elevator and down the hall were two of the three hired guns. They were babbling something to each other in an effort to pass the time. The third man was probably inside the doorway. That's where I would be. Making sure Francis didn't crawl out in the morning and avoid paying.

Three humans would be far easier if I took them on away from Francis. Guns and a wolf combined could take down this big dumb bouncer easily. Especially since the humans had to be left alive and relatively unhurt. At least my possessive mindset was functioning a bit. Tidbits of the world about fed into my sense of touch.

Feet rest against ground. All pressure on heels. One gazes at nothing. Words rattle out, no meaning. One glances at me, constantly. Measures. His right-hand grips a gun. Handle is warm. Safety off.

Both my hands came out of their pockets and into the air. Hopefully it would help me appear unarmed and sort of harmless, aside from my size. The hallway was too small for my taste, but that was common.

"Hold up. Who's this?" The taller one asked. His hair a muddy color and clothes seemed to share the same selection of browns and tans.

"I'm here to help." I responded.

"Don't know what you're talking about."  The tallest seemed to be in charge of this little trio.

"Someone said there was a job here for someone who could hold off wolves." Or get a hold of them. My vague words gave me time to move down the hallway.

"Lot of someones for a lot of nothing. Roll yourself somewhere else."

"Damn man, I could use some cash too." Daniel's accent came out of my mouth.

"I'm sure you could." The man's voice was sarcastic and didn't seem to hold an ounce of respect for me. If only I was in my old shape. I would have rolled down this hallway like a whirlwind of destruction while throwing chairs from the lobby.

"Ever held against a wolf?" I turned to look at the jumpy one. His hand was still working the grip of his gun. Fingers were flicking the safety off and on repeatedly. At least it felt like a safety.

"Sure we have, now get gone before we make you gone." Because he would fire those guns in a hotel? Sure, way to get an unwelcome kind of attention.

The door behind the men opened and the last guard came out. His face seemed to pause for a moment as eyes shifted from the dark room to the brighter hallways.

"Boss says if he can hold off a wolf he can stay, but it comes out of our share."  Said the third one.

"Fuck that." The tall muddy haired man answered.

Now I just needed him to close the door and separate himself from Francis. They weren't clever enough to keep one eye on the prize. These hired thugs barely knew which end of the gun to point at the bad guy.

"Here, I'll show you my piece." I kept one hand in the air and started to put the other in a pocket.

"Hold it. What's that you're reaching for?" He asked

"Be cool." I grinned at him.

"I'll catch that, you just chill." There was a moment where my friendly face slipped. Did he want to reach into my pocket? And take my things?

"Be careful." I hope he cuts himself to ribbons. To his credit, the muddy haired man managed to extract one of the gloves without much effort.

"Holy shit." The third one let loose his commitment from the doorway and stepped out.

"What the hell are these?" The first asked.

"A level playing field." I responded while glaring at him and my gloves. He couldn't help but try it on, an action that did nothing but annoy me.

"Bet you don't even have silver bullets." It's easier to sucker punch someone if you get them talking, and with the door closing all three were outside and away from Francis.

"Sure we..." Muddy head's next words were cut off when my shoulder drove into his chest. Our slam cracked the doorway and expelled air from his lungs. Fingers curled inward and punched the brown man next to me. He had almost gotten those grubby untrimmed fingernails around his gun. Nice to know my punches were still heavy enough to put someone out.

Gunfire went off behind me and grazed one shoulder. I turned while sweeping my left hand across knocking the firearm away before a second shot went off. Man three received my fist to the face. Pleasant sounds of cartilage snapping and grown men crying in pain filled the air. Blood poured out before the third one even hit the ground. A swift follow-up kick deterred another attempt at shooting me.

If these three had been wolves, or vampires, or remotely good at their jobs then this might have gone completely different. The fun part, the wolf, was inside and a lot tougher. Hopefully.

I pried my glove out of mud head's grasp. Both claws slide into place. There was a rush of noise as I opened the door. Heavy grunting warned me just before tactile overload did. Something large and heavy was being heft.

Quickly I dashed inside and pressed against the wall. A heavy object hurled past and slammed crosswise into the doorway. A growl of frustration preceded metal grinding in protest. My tactile senses picked up other details. A heavy body turning away. Metal framed glass sliding upward. Francis was going for the window.

The possessive droning in the back of my mind fell apart as I rushed to catch up. One foot banged into a dresser, hands fumbled to get around the chair and coat rack. In the seconds it took to travel across the room Francis had already leaped out. Part of me was flattered a wolf had jumped three stories to get away from me.

I flipped on a light and looked around for a sign on where he was headed, car keys, anything that would let me chase after him. Instead, there was a ticket for a train out of town.  Good enough.

The ticket quickly went into a coat pocket and I looked out the window again. He made good time while not full wolf. His legs certainly pumped furiously. Mentally I weighed options. Francis wouldn't risk shifting. He had a slight limp from the landing. I had his escape route right here. Half the pack was on the lookout.

But he was mine. This was my chance to start really rebuilding my life.

Head snaps. Old sensations flood in. Need this. Need enough to let loose, for a moment. Just a moment. Prey is so close. Back burns from unused muscles. Arm itches in reminder of things being forgotten. World goes black for a brief moment. Hear air ripple as it catches.

Sudden free falling and a rush of wind caused me to panic. Both arms were windmilling wildly as legs fluttered. A sudden backward jerk sent pain through both shoulders. My frightening descent lost most momentum. Feet slammed down into the ground and then I was running after him. There was a little voice in the back of my head screaming about what I had just done. I should be broken. Leaping out the third story was not something humans did.

The other part of me was hauling ass across the dimly lit parking lot towards Francis. I could figure out the jumping and surviving thing later. Ahead of me was a wolf who needed to be punched in the face.

Rapid fire thudding of footsteps echoed across the street. Francis turned with a quick jerk of neck muscles. Terror crossed his face. His eyesight was better than mine. I was going on a barely registered set of reactions to the objects around me.

The scum wolf kept looking over a while tipping anything nearby. A garbage can, newsstands, I hurdled over them all while closing the gap. I twisted backward to dodge swirling lamppost I felt flying through the air. Francis' heartbeat had grown stuttered, face flushed, eyes strained.

Nearby was a shoe, then another. A shirt fluttered by. He wasn't limping as badly now and if he completed the shift I would never catch up. Four legs sped way faster than two.

Oh Hell.

Francis was turning around while changing shape. I kept up my pace as one part of me watched him shifting and another part felt it. Muscles twitched and reformed, shoulders and head drawing up to a greater height, jaw pulling out to a toothy smile. His fur was the same color I had seen back at his house in the suburbs but the look was far less welcoming than the canine form.

Wolves did not play fair. Neither did I. My other thoughts were in full swing as I charged.

Fur bristles. Scrunches. Rolls. Shoulder muscles settle. Heart pumps loudly. Body sways through the air while wolf gains balance.

Adrenaline rushed through Francis' body. A psychological response to the change according to Julianne. Switching from one form to another came with an intense surge of chemicals that overwhelmed any sense of pain. Instead, wolves felt an intense rush of energy similar to a berserker.

My senses swept the same feelings over me and something similar answered the challenge. His life was mine. My prey, my target, my hunt. I chased him down and he wasn't running away anymore. I barely had the sense to yank my jacket off so it wouldn't get torn up.

This was the fun part.

Muscles in a wolf work differently. There are weaknesses and angles anyone can go for with enough practice. I was out of practice, but part of me remembered where to swing for. The chest was useless. It was too bunched up. The face and nose were sensitive and perfect. A throat would cause them to freak out. Legs were heavily muscled and suited for a bouncy equilibrium. Breaking the weak spot near his heels would work wonders.

Above all, silver helped.

For a moment, as I charged in, I wondered how badly this might turn out. What else could I do? The last few days had reminded me of one important fact. I would rather die fighting than live hiding. My limited skill set was only useful for this kind of moment. And I loved it.

Both feet launched me across the gap as Francis finished his shift. I lashed out, trying to connect silver to skin quickly. Francis fell backward while kicking on hind legs like a wild dog. Large feet rose against my flying form. One arm braced against the kicks. Claws rent through layers of skin.

First blood was his. Francis bent around and managed to back himself up and lowered his head to the ground. Even with that crouched position he was still huge. His voice choked up with spittle from nearly rabid growls.

Darkness robbed most physical sight. Wolf's vision would be unfair. I could feel him as he paced. Most of his weight rested on large, awkwardly shaped feet. It was easier to focus on his pelvis, to feel the weight shift from his center. Francis slid sideways in order to reach my blind side.

Both hands shook, left, then right. Flashing silver would put him on guard. Keep him from blindly rushing in and overwhelming me. Hesitation on his part would make it easier to get silver into him. That simple action would cause the wolf to shut down and go into shock.

My left foot stomped down as loudly as I could in his direction. Francis flinched, his back rolled and twitched. Surviving in the heat of battle was making it easier to focus. To feel ownership. Awareness stretched behind me picking up scattered items. Strewn clothes were us behind us. Torn pants sat about his warped waist.

Mine.

Francis was getting smarter. Bunching up and quieting down. Part of his rational mind must be kicking in as the initial rush of transformation faded. I could feel his muscles roll in preparation. When he did move, it would be sudden, so sudden I might not react in time.

Weight shifts. Fur brushes air. There.

A brief flash of insight sent me left. Francis shot through the spot I had been standing. I pressed towards the ground, touching down with a hand and spinning about. The other hand swung through the wolf's landing zone. Fur brushed across my fingers. I propelled myself forward swinging the other hand in and successfully grabbed more air.

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Teeth rushed in from the right snapping a giant maw. Big enough to take out my head. My shoulder tucked in as I rolled to the side. Things were getting easier to sense. Taking on that all-encompassing sensation I had when fighting Kahina's minions. Drumming pulsed in my ears overriding my real hearing. Each movement felt familiar, like a favorite pair of pants. Ones that would fit perfectly if I could just get them over my ass.

My mind slipped further into the moment, into the battle in front of me. This was my turf, my town, my target.

Heavy wolf. Angry snarl. Drops of perspiration splash onto ground. Across the street someone rushes by. Scared. Human. Doesn't look over.

I fell back on a hand to get away from the jaw. Grating tingled my senses as iron dug along the dirt. My free arm backhanded through the air again. This time things connected and Francis yelped. He didn't back off. Desperation fueled each snap of teeth and each swing of claws. Both feet pumped trying to gain distance with awkward hops. Slobber spilled off of his jaws. The biting slowed down as my lucky silver strike started to hit home. Even Alphas disliked silver.

Escape was impossible. Francis' front paws kept catching on my ruined pants. Small, painful grooves were carved into my flesh with each lunge. There was something close by. I shifted direction enough to back up towards my jacket.

My scramble paid off as I recovered my coat. The heavy fabric was quickly tossed over Francis' head. He reared back and brought both malformed arms up to try and pull the coat off. Reaching above their heads was difficult for any wolf. Their muscles were built all wrong.

Recovering only took moments and I scrambled to press my brief advantage. A beat in my ears went with each step. Moving inwards. Sliding up to Francis' left. Capturing his arm with my right. Bumping his middle. Placing one foot behind his paws. I pulled on the extra strength available and hefted the wolf up and over.

Startled whimpering signaled success. My jacket still covered his head. Francis' legs and paws were kicking as he tried to right himself.

Mine. Den wrecking life is mine. Dominate. Prevent misunderstandings. Below me. Beneath me. Wolf inferior. Dares damage family.

Quickly I wove one arm under his. The other locked across his gigantic chest. My arms grasped together at the wrists and pulled the silver against his chest.

"Shift or I'll squeeze!" I shouted in his ear. Hopefully it hurt. His struggling picked up steam. Warmth slid over my hands as blood seeped out from lines being dug into his chest.

"Shift, you moron!" He flipped us over and gave a weak howl while still kicking. Unwelcome liquid and foam flung around the area while I hung on. Silver tore deeper grooves into his skin. Francis wasn't the only one bleeding and what little strength I had was fading.

Winning or losing depended on my ability to keep a grip. His struggles slowed, then stopped. Body heaving in deep breaths, tactile sensations picked up the spent give to his muscles. Aching, burning, losing strength. I loosened my grip somewhat.

"Shift! Or I swear I'll shove silver into your heart!" A ripple of my arms as I flexed the rest of muscles, demonstrating just how hard that squeeze could get. Then I felt him shrink under my arms as he collapsed. My jacket still covering half his form.

I pulled my arms out and quickly replaced it with a curled fist to his back, silver side down. It didn't take much persuasion to keep him peaceful on the ground. My other arm dug through my jacket pockets looking for the specially made cuffs. They slipped over his wrists. Once they were secure enough I eased up on my fist.

"Sector issued." I rattled the cuffs. "Don't shift."

"I won't." He huffed then struggled to pull away from the dirt. I could feel the man's breath as it curled out over the ground and was sucked back in.

"Where's the money, Francis." I asked.

There was a pause as I felt him strain a little against the restraints.

"Wrong idea, Francis. Where is the money." I put my hand to his back again. The blade side down and started to lightly drag across his skin. Small welts appeared displaying his body's adverse reaction. This was the part they paid me for.

I wouldn't feel guilty for this. He would heal if I didn't go overboard. Even the gouges on his chest weren't irreversible.

"Money, Francis. Focus on the money and I won't keep going." I paused for a moment, leaving my hand where it was, before starting again.

"The hotel. It's back in the hotel." The cracking of his voice told me how bad it hurt. There was no pity for a man willing to screw his family over. Hell. I should double check. Those girls deserved good information.

"You sure, Francis?" I trailed silver down another strip then dug in. Francis shook and weakly tried to buck me off. He weighed too little as a human.

"Are, you, sure?" I asked again.

"Yes." It took a bit for him to say it. His body was shutting down. Wolves tended to shut down and heal when it got to be overwhelming. Hopefully. Julianne had said that I needed either Francis dead, and the money, or Francis alive, and a damned good excuse.

Excitement slowly drained and my own huffing lessened. This had been a success. This target had been taken down by my hands. My target. All without help. I was seriously out of shape but not out of the game.

Other senses retracted. The world around grew dim again, no longer as vibrant, almost lifeless. No lights came on in the area, and things still looked extremely dark. I went for the cellphone and called Julianne.

"What's up, Jay?"

"Got Francis."  I said.

"How is he?"

"Comatose. But alive.”

"Shame, and the money?"  She asked.

"He said the Hotel room." I gave her the apartment number that I had seen in person and my visions. Getting back in would be too tough for me now.

"It's not in there, Jay, we checked."

"Wait, we who?" I asked Julianne for clarification.

"You think the pack or I would just let you go without someone following?" She said. I paused for a moment and pressed the phone to my chest for a moment. Julianne hadn't trusted me to solve this on my own? Typical.

"He said it was there." I wish I had brought a partner, or not screwed things up with Kahina. It was easier to have one person check for the items while I handled the face punching.

"Hold on." The phone clicked over to hold music for a moment then flipped back.

"There were some others in the area, humans, the scent was all over, sound familiar?"

"Yeah, three human morons." I answered.

She snorted. "Where were they when you left them?"

"Out cold." Only six or seven minutes had passed so far. Did they wake up and take the money during that window? Then somehow evade a wolf?

"We'll scrape something together on them. However until the pack has that money back I can't give you a cut." Because of a couple of little human idiots I would lose out on a finder's fee. That money had important things attached to it. Collection building, rent, food, a new pair of pants.

"How about bringing him in?" I asked.

"His life is the pack's, money was the only thing I had any room with. Drag yourself back and I'll set out a few drinks, but that's all I'm offering."  She said. Even though my thoughts were ungrateful I didn't want to argue with Julianne.

"Fine, want me to sit on Francis?"

"Yeah, you'll have company soon. Look for Malcolm, don't hand him over to anyone else." She clicked off.

"Bitch." I muttered to a dead phone line. My vision was getting blurry. All that was left was riding this out until Malcolm showed up.

Jacket pockets were emptied out and the clothing went over Francis' nearly naked body. At least some remains of his pants had stayed intact through the shifts. They were nearly stretched beyond use. Sitting on Francis was a literal suggestion. If he woke up then my weight would prevent a lot of struggle. It would also hurt his back, which he deserved for making me miss the money. He was lucky I didn't punch him some more.

My mental switch was still somewhat functional. Kicking someone's ass helped. What little light I had to see by was completely useless at helping me but tactile sensation wasn't lost.

Minutes later the soles of feet slammed against the concrete. Not just shoes but paws. More than a few wolves were showing up. Six, maybe seven pack members. I unhooked my gloves and pocketed them. My hands slowly went up. A car rolled down the street towards us. Its headlights were blazingly bright compared to the darkness I camped in.

The door cracked and someone stepped out. Medium height, nondescriptor build for a wolf, deeply tanned skin. He had a presence that assumed command but his looks were one step away from getting lost in a crowd.

"Jeff, I believe?" He said.

"That's me, and you?" I asked.

"Malcolm."

"Good, this is yours." I stood up and grabbed my jacket. The action hurt more than it should. Most of my wounds should be clotting. A dull ache was leftover as the adrenaline drained.

"You seem a little off." Malcolm's voice was flat and emotionless as he studied me. There was a slight flare to his nostrils as he took in the air around him.

"Wrestled a wolf, of course I'm off." I responded.

"That you did. Julianne said you would be able to handle it. Not sure I believed it of a lone human." Another wolf padded up a came too close for my comfort. One of the others was sniffing the hell out of the ground where I had just sat. There wasn't enough light to make out what he was looking for.

"Mama raised me right." I said. Except for the likely vampire exposure in my childhood and the fact that I didn't remember my real mom. "I'll want the cuffs back." The key was tossed at Malcolm. My exiting limp was pretty sad. At least Francis and the other pack wolves were behind me. Home was a ways off. I could handle it.

It only took a few blocks for me to determine that resting would be better. Rolling up my pant leg revealed a lot more damage than expected.

"Oh, Hell." I winced, it'd been easier to ignore the damage when I couldn't see it. A lot easier. Hell. The fact that I'd walked off at all was amazing.

I rolled up my shirt and looked. My torso was mostly okay. Arms hurt a little. The muscle strain I had put them through finally kicking in. My shirt came off very carefully and was bundled up to dab at various wounds. The damage seemed to be mostly surface ones. I would have to stay off my legs for a bit or the rips would never stop bleeding. That made getting home problematic unless I could get a ride and a lot of extra large band-aids.

Maybe Julianne had a ride. Three calls to her phone later and I discovered she was either ignoring me, or not there.

I had wrestled down a wolf. What the hell had been going through my mind? This damage was completely deserved. Normal law enforcement measures involved guns with special ammunition and a pair of pliers. One to put the silver in, the other to take it out after their targets were cuffed. The fact that my last wounds had cleared up by the time I left the forest gave me some hope that my complexion wouldn't get any worse from this. A busted nose was enough.

The water fountain and my shirt were put to work trying to clean. Further searching revealed a few giant gashes on the sides that tore straight through a good portion of the muscle. I knotted strips of my shirt around the wounds and put the jacket back on. This would serve me until real first aid could be applied at home. Sleep was also desperately needed. My eyesight and mind whittled down to the path homeward. A path practically glowed in darkness showing me the way. Turn on this block, cross the street here, take a shortcut through some school playground.

Along the way my feet had stopped moving. Someone with slender arms still carried me forth. When had that happened? My brain was barely aware of the change in sensation as the speed picked up. Someone was carrying me along, and it was still towards home.

"Left, down there." I waved an arm towards a little alley that I wouldn't know about on a good day. One that my mind lit up as a quicker route.

"It's okay, Jay, just relax." A female voice.

I focused the best I could on the arms holding me. It felt awkward with her slender frame holding up a bulky man like me. Dark skinned, and that voice? Must have been Kahina. She had found me and was carrying me home. Not the first time the woman had come to my rescue. My eyes focused on the ribbon of purple that covered her wrist. There is where she had her first bite in the long process to shift to a vampire. It's scar would never heal.

Kahina had tried to kill me last time I was this damaged. I panicked and started fidgeting. Her arms stayed immobile. Vampire strength was too much to fight for a normal person and even I wasn't able to make headway. My head was fuzzy. Perhaps I had lost more than a little blood.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you." She never had. Never, except one time. One time without control where she scared me so thoroughly my self-image shattered. I had run away as a result.

"Stupid, Jay, so stupid." She said. Tonight had been as much about reclaiming who I was, as it was about finding Francis' money, for his family, to remove his debt. To deal with Kahina on top of it was just unfair.

"You wanted to protect me." Her words were rapidly becoming background noise.

Bits of thoughts passed through my brain, then stopped, and faded off into the mire. Everything got harder to concentrate on. More distance passed as she carried me. A shimmer of light rising in the east seemed to indicate dawn was close. Kahina shouldn't be out in this, she should be finding a place before daylight overwhelmed her. Vampires went into a deep coma during the day.

"But who will protect you?"

Such a backward feeling. I was probably half again Kahina's weight yet she was lifting me like it was nothing. Then I heard as much as felt the combination of buttons, metal gates swinging, a click of my doorknob. Crushed peppermint hung in the air. I was home. My eyes shut and left me with blackness even darker than the world outside.