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Jude wasn't particularly happy when Hannah decided not to join them, not that he was upset or unhappy with her, he understood her reasons in part, but because he'd only just realised how much he probably needed the support of his friends. Hannah was a friend who knew about the supernatural side of his life, most of it if not all, that he had been a major part of performing a ritual that had brought his vampire ancestor back to the realm of the living. It struck him as completely crazy that they were in this situation, and once again found himself wondering how in the hell Sterling was so calm about all this. That in itself seemed so bizarre, though of course he probably knew about a decent amount of the supernatural stuff going on, the vampire secret was out even if some still didn't want to believe it. The information was out there and due to his profession there was no doubt in Jude's mind all of a sudden that Sterling was probably more aware of it than he'd like to admit, he knew for certain Sterling knew at least one vampire... Intimately. Sterling hadn't elaborated overly about the man he'd come to find from his hometown, the one he'd stayed for but was no longer with. He'd dated a vampire, of course he was calm about a woman with fangs, Jude's insane dreams and talk of alarming creatures. He'd spent his nights with one.

His exhausted brain had too readily glossed over the fact that while he'd been an amazing, caring support person for Jude in his time of need, he too had secrets, secrets that Jude hadn't asked to hear because he wasn't entirely sure he was ready to digest them amongst all the other madness in his world. Sterling wasn't connected to the more demanding side of his life, he was a breath of fresh air, a friendly face to hang out with and Jude wasn't sure he was ready to tarnish that. Perhaps it was too late. He didn't comment on it, far too focused on putting one foot in front of the other and the strange of crash of disappointment that left him leaning heavier into the support that the man assisting him provided. "One intervention is enough, I'll skip the coffee if it makes you happy." His smile was warm if tired, his face turning to press briefly against Sterling's shoulder. In the sitting room he let himself fall heavily into one of the chairs, sinking down into it as if his bones were made of heavy metals. "Not expecting us, not exactly, but one of them will be here any minute... Trust me on that." If it wasn't Alaric having woken, braving the last of the dying sun, then perhaps he would alert one of the others or they simply would have heard him arrive. It was rare these days that someone wasn't pottering around the house, whether it be a von der Marck who lived there or someone visiting.

"So here I am thinking that maybe the hunger in your eyes might have meant something special--and now I find you stalking outside around the questionable abode of a known vampire."

Ripper breaks the stillness of his shadows by flicking open a lighter flame in the darkness behind Hannah.

"You`d bite anyone without a pulse, wouldn`t you?"

LEONIE The Lioness heard the small commotion that could only mean company, no matter the odd hour usually reserved for dinner among regular people, anyway. Keeping company with an immortal patriarch meant they were often up and about at random times and Leonie, still without much in the way of traditional responsibility, had the freedom and luxury of keeping whatever hours she mostly pleased. That meant that that day, she had risen later than usual and was just getting her waking hours well underway in hopes of late-night one-on-one time with Alaric. So to head into the parlor and find not only a strange male standing there, but a disheveled Judah laid out on a couch had her stomach dropping about 20 feet before she snapped her jaw shut and cleared her throat. She'd promised to make herself scarce if Jude came around, but had hoped there would be some warning. "I... hey. Um... I'll just go grab Alaric for you," she said lamely, every intent to scrap the night and head back to cottage snaking through her.


JUDAH Judah straightened up in the chair as she arrived, eyes widening slightly to look her over, his smile strained. "Leonie..." He said her name with a quiet sigh attached, apologetic mostly. "Maybe you could help too. I don't know anymore... But I think I need him."


LEONIE She raked a hand through her dark locks, worn loose that day, and nodded. He looked like hell, far worse than he'd sounded on the phone a few nights prior. "I’ll do what I can, though I really don't..." she broke that off. It didn't matter what she thought. If Alaric knew of a way she might be of use, she would do it. She nodded. “I'll go get him," she said, swallowing hard in both worry and discomfort, turning for the door.


[ALARIC VON DER MARCK] The elder fought sleep. When the sun set, he didn't always wake all at once and in a rush. It was a slow process, coming to his senses as the suns rays gave up their hold on the day. This slow waking was the time in which Alaric generally swept the estate, mentally. He checked on who was around, and on each of the family members he knew to be sure of their safety. Tonight, he fought through the drowziness, forcing his limbs from the bed. The first person he thought of was Judah, and that dream that was not a dream. He didn't bother to dress -- beyond the track pants he wore to bed -- as his bare feet hit the brick of the basement floor. Through the door, through the halls, and he was headed for where he knew Judah to be. He knew he was there. He knew Leonie was there. He knew that Hannah was outside. He knew that there was also a stranger in their midst -- but all was dismissed as he finally stumbled across the trio. "Judah..." he said, relieved to see the man with his eyes open. "You are here," he said, immediately moving to Judah's side, hands on either side of Judah's face, thumbs pawing at his cheeks to get a good look at his eyes -- as if he might be able to see what was wrong, just by looking.


JUDAH Judah didn't speak again, but his lips remained parted as if he might, as there was more to say but no way in which to do so. He startled slightly when he heard his name from the doorway, looking up to see the elder moving towards him, clearly only recently tumbled out of bed. He met the man's gaze at first frowning up with trepidation, a hint of fear and that apology on his features before he let them drop to his own lap. He watched his fingers lace together and unlace, whitening slightly at the knuckles when he gripped, dark lashes a stark contrast to his fair skin that was unusually pale, the barest dusting of fair freckles standing out upon his nose and cheeks in his drained state. "Alaric. I'm sorry."


STERLING Sterling managed a tense smile in reply. The barest twinge of guilt lanced through his consciousness; an awareness that the gesture didn't quite reach his eyes. He was on edge, a tautness to his energy that expressed itself in the subtle shift of his gaze from Judah to Leonie. A lack of sleep was only partially to blame. There was a weight to the atmosphere; a density that began with an idle prickling of the hair along the nape of his neck the second they'd set foot over the threshold. He'd been gritting his teeth against the foreign sensation for minutes, the tension in his jaw visible. It relaxed only slightly with Leonie's presence, though the tension between the pair was palpable. The strangeness that lingered between them - the hesitancy in her tone, and the fragile apology in Jude's - was forgotten with Alaric's arrival. His gaze snapped onto his a moment later, spine straightening like a marionette, once left in an inert heap, whose strings had been given an abrupt tug. There was a vague, clouded look to his gaze; one of recognition and wordless predatory intent. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he said, tone sharper than he'd meant.


[ALARIC VON DER MARCK] The elder's lips had parted to ask what, exactly, Judah had to be sorry for -- whatever he'd had to say, however, was cut off by the other in the room. The stranger, whom Alaric hadn't had the opportunity to properly assess. A glance now was spared, eyes narrowed at the other. Telepathic fingers probed the man's heart, his soul -- whatever it was that harnessed all there was to know about another's power. And this human was not merely human, of that much Alaric was certain. And he berated himself for ever showing his back to the stranger. He shifted, now, so that he could face the stranger, his hand resting reassuringly on the back of Judah's neck. He said nothing. Not out loud. Instead, directly to Judah's mind: You can apologise later for bringing a Hunter into our home he said. "You have seen the Wendigo," he said, matter-of-fact.


JUDAH Jude's frown sharpened, more awake as he tried to comprehend the words that Alaric spoke both to his mind and out loud for the benefit of the room, struggling to distinguish between them. "A hunter?" He repeated, looking up at Sterling, a hand reaching idly to clasp around the man's wrist, fingertips resting over his pulse and finding it oddly comforting. "Wait, Wendigo?" He shook his head, somewhat reassured by the solid weight of Alaric's hand at the back of his neck but also aware it was protective. "****... Right. Alaric, this is Sterling. He's kept me safe, he's..." He wasn't sure how to finish the sentence so he didn't, "Sterling this is Alaric. He's..." Jude blanched, swallowing, another sentence he couldn't finish. "Family. As is Leonie." He gestured to the dark haired woman who tried to make herself inconspicuous, "She is a distant cousin, there are a lot of these in the von der Marck lineage."


LEONIE Wendigo. Now there was a name she had heard recently, in one of her random library visits to while away more idle, solitary hours, but she had little time to consider what she’d read about the supposedly mystical creatures. Her hazel gaze sharpened, shifting from Judah to Alaric and back again, before moving toward the stranger. Sterling, the one Jude had briefly mentioned in his frantic phone call, who had a curiously sharp look about him and to his tone that set the Lioness instantly on edge.


STERLING The sensation when Alaric turned to face him was similar to twin anchors tethered around his calf. That, then, was the sensation he couldn't quite place. He kept his gaze level, his own expression cool, despite the curious sense of inertia that gripped him. It was second only to the abrupt revulsion that coursed through him; the familiar, bitter taste of bile at the back of his throat. It carried a sharp, sour taste; a surprising heat that was almost a physical weight against his throat. He swallowed around it, mildly disoriented by the insistence of the familiar twist that assaulted his senses. It carried an urgency that bordered on hysteria. He nearly jumped as Jude's fingers circled his wrist, fingertips settling over his pulse. He shook himself out of it a moment later, relaxing under his touch."It seems the anciano has a bone to pick." He stated wryly. His gaze settled onto Alaric's once more. "You seem intelligent enough to know you shouldn't. This isn't the time or place." It was not the most graceful of sidesteps. Not that he had time to elaborate before Judah was speaking again. "Nice to meet you," he ground out. He paused. "They certainly seem to be crawling out of the woodwork in spades all at once, yes."


[ALARIC VON DER MARCK] By Judah's reaction, it would seem he did not know what Sterling was, nor what he had brought into the house -- nor could he know what Alaric wanted to do to the threat now standing before them. A hunter, who knew his name and now where he lived. It was a liability he was not sure he was willing to have, regardless of Judah's seeming attachment. "It is not," he agreed as he stood, shoulders squared. "Judah is safe, here. I think that you should leave," he said.


JUDAH "Alaric!" He couldn't believe that Alaric was being so rude, he was alarmed by the man's demeanor, clearly so opposed to Sterling and he didn't understand quite why nor had he ever seen the elder behave in such a way. Sterling wasn't any better, the man who has been nothing but kind and considerate to him, gentle and supportive, was being stand-offish. "Sterling! What is wrong with you both? Seriously!" He stood up, almost losing his balance as he stepped between them, swaying into Alaric before he stumbled a step and came up against Sterling's chest, tightening his grip on the man's arm.


STERLING "No." He didn't raise his voice. His tone was borderline conversational, as if Alaric had offered a menu item he wasn't enthused about, and had declined. He was interrupted by Jude a split second later. His reflexes responded unconsciously; hands reaching out to gently grip him by the shoulders, ensuring that he was steady, before one hand lowered, his palm coming to rest against the small of his back. The other slid to his bicep, gently squeezing it as he tucked him against his chest. "With all due respect..." He began. "It's easy to make that judgment while you hide yourself away in your Addam's Family knockoff manor. He wanted to reach out to you against my better judgment this evening. The way I see it, you can either drop the sanctimonious act, or you can continue to stress him out, and we'll go home."


[ALARIC VON DER MARCK] The smile that Alaric gave was not chivalrous. It was a smile that failed to touch his eyes as his hands spread not in surrender, but in suggestion. Judah knew Alaric's story. He knew the way in which Alaric had been betrayed. "He will reach out to me because I have the answers that he requires. Here, he has his family -- we are not weak," he said. "Judah, your friend is a hunter. A Paladin," he said. He let the words fall where they may, and allowed Judah to do with them what he wanted. Alaric's instinct was to help his kin as best as possible. He could not do so, to the best of his ability, while waiting for a knife to land between his shoulder blades.


LEONIE At this back and forth, Leonie did let her brows shoot up, her fingers reaching automatically for her ever present cell phone in case there was a need to alert anyone that there was an issue in their midst. She’d learned her lesson with Hannah and was pleased the two women had grown closer as friends in recent weeks, but she doubted Jude had forgiven her for it yet. Still, this was something worse if Alaric’s behavior was anything to go by, with a far more cloying and urgent sense of danger along with it and she felt her entire body tense. He simply wasn’t the kind of person to react in such a way to guests, his sense of chivalry always outweighing whatever imposition a surprise visitor might cause. Her gaze narrowed slightly as it slid back to Jude. Just what was it with him and bringing potential trouble to their doorstep, anyway? But she kept those thoughts down deep, a text rapidly typed out but not yet sent, to Lou, that he might be needed immediately.


JUDAH The two men were obviously at odds, though the steadying touch provided when he stumbled against Sterling helped him stand a little straighter, looking up at the man with question and confusion clear in his expression. "What..." He didn't get to finish, Alaric speaking again, that word. Hunter. It was followed by one he hadn't heard before, not outside of history books and video games. Was it another word for these vampire Hunters? They'd discussed hunters, he knew that Alaric had been sent to his death by them, a betrayal that haunted him and he'd warned them to be wary of trusting humans. When he thought of a paladin the image of an armoured crusader came to mind, some kind of medieval knight. He tried to imagine Sterling dressed as one, handsome and battle worn, but he looked noble not like some evil hunter. Sterling had dated a vampire, how could he be a hunter? "He's a what?" The dark haired man found a hand falling against Sterling's chest, fingers bunching in the fabric. "What does he mean, Sterling? What does he mean you are a Paladin?" He peered over his shoulder, looking at his ancestor. "Alaric, I don't understand... I'm so tired. Please, can't we just... Just sit?"


STERLING For a brief moment, a spiteful thought rose to the surface. It was succinct in its violence. Namely: how much he would have dearly loved to choke Alaric in that moment, however fruitless it would've been. He shied away from the thought a moment later, wincing inwardly. It was uncharitable, born of a mixture of frustration and a hazy exhaustion. He exhaled, glancing down at Judah as his fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt. The muddled confusion in the man's tone forced a pang of guilt. "I would've told you," he began, grimacing at the mildly defensive tone that crept to color his words. "No offense, Jude, but this is hardly the place to be having this conversation." His gaze drifted pointedly to Alaric. "It isn't --" He paused, his sentence trailing off. Important, he'd nearly said. "the reason why we came here," he amended. He dropped the hand that had rested against the man's bicep, fingers slipping to find his own. "You should," he agreed. "Before you fall down."

[ALARIC VON DER MARCK] The way Sterling had previously mentioned the word home Alaric began to wonder whether there were alternate reasons for Judah's move out of the manor. It was a thought born of paranoia -- the one thing Alaric feared was death. He did not want to go back to that place. There was no afterlife, just nothingness and an eternity of darkness and despair. Worse than that, he did not want to entertain the thought of yet another betrayal. Judah did not know. He had not been told. He could not be blamed. Alaric's trust, however, did not extend to Sterling, though he did nod in agreement. "Sit, Judah," he said. He himself remained standing; the elder knew his strengths and weaknesses, and battle was not a strength. Not thoroughly. Not yet. He was trying to assess whether he could take on this hunter without weapons, should it come to that. He tore his eyes from whom he could only see as an intruder and instead tried to focus on Judah. "There is a book, in the library. I think that it will help..."


JUDAH Jude brushed off the hand that reached for his own, withdrawing them to himself as he sank down into the seat behind him, "Would have told me? You... But I thought you..." His head was pounding, the man pushing his hands over his face, sliding them up into his hair. "What the **** is going on?" He snapped, Jude feeling beyond overwhelmed. "A book? Great. Sure..." His tone was tense, eyes widened in alarm, sleep having shook from him to give way the mad sort of delirium that made you feel like you had the energy to run a marathon when your body just wouldn't let you. Restless, frustrated. He was too caught up in the information he’d just learn to really focus on Alaric’s offer of a book, to be interested and eager as he usually would have been.


STERLING Sterling looked briefly stricken. For a heartbeat, his expression held the same uncertain, heavy look it often wore as a child, hesitating on the threshold of his mother's kitchen after dusk. He'd stand just out of sight, breathing in the unique, dry scent of red clay just before a summer storm, the sharp, mineral scent of it overlapped by the softer aroma of butter and cinnamon, the faintly sour scent of rising dough that certain beers reminded him of to this day. He'd stand, fidgeting, fingers twisting in the hem of yet another dirtied shirt, fingers pinching the hole that gaped at one sleeve with his fingers, as if he could force the torn material back together again by sheer power of will. He was more afraid, in those moments, of his mother's low, heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the stormclouds that brooded above once she caught sight of the shirt than her quiet look of both disappointment and concern as her fingers slid under his chin, tilting his head up to expose the shiny, wet flesh of a freshly split lip. He wore the same stricken look now. "It's a long story," he settled on, quietly. "I'll explain later, Jude." And then, softer still: "I promise." He winced sympathetically at the outburst. "You can't be serious." His tone was flat, and incredulous.


[ALARIC VON DER MARCK] Whatever was going on between Judah and Sterling, Alaric could tell that it was serious. He could see it in the way they touched, their body language. He could see it in the way Sterling's face seemed to fall given Judah's rejection. Alaric himself counted to ten before he responded to either of them; his one urge was to throw the hunter to the curb. He did not want the man in their house. It went against all his instincts, and his every nature, to allow him to stay. That he didn't forcibly toss him out was testament to Alaric's faith in Judah -- a faith that did not seem to be reciprocated. Sterling's disrespect was expected. Judah's was not. Alaric had to calm himself; Judah was tired. Exhausted. He could be forgiven. "Yes," he said, his tone sharp and carrying the weight of one with centuries on his shoulders. "A book. They are useful tools from which to gain information," he said. That should have been obvious. "We are dealing with a Wendigo," he said. How he knew this he was not willing to divulge with a hunter present. He was willing to present nothing about his past with a hunter present. "I do not remember how one is vanquished, but I know which book tells me how. Now, did you come here for my help, or did you come here to disrespect me?" he asked, glancing between them.


JUDAH Judah's mouth opened at the crestfallen look Sterling gave him, lips parting on a slight gasp of regret,as confused and frustrated as he was it made him feel oddly hollow to see the man looking briefly bereft. His own expression no doubt echoed it, bordering on turning apologetic but when Alaric began to speak he flinched, looking suddenly mortified. "Alaric... I'm sorry. I don't mean to, I don't..." He groaned quietly, scrubbing his hands over his face and at his tired eyes. Of course he, the family Chronicler and total nerd, knew the value of information but was understandably taken aback by the events unfolding before him."I do want your help, because without it I might as well let them have me. I can't fight it much longer, it stalks me night and day now. My son needs me, and i'm afraid." It was humbling to admit this, and he found himself looking briefly to Leonie who he had no doubt was listening keenly, not quite meeting her eye. She'd watched it all and no doubt she'd wanted to argue, to defend Alaric from some perceived threat if he needed it. It hurt him, that he seemed to stir that reaction in them since Alaric's return. Since when was the one they questioned or doubted? Even with their colourful history Leonie had always acknowledged that Jude did what he thought was right, best and safest for his loved ones. That they believed he would bring people they couldn’t trust into the family home, that they questioned his judgement so readily made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Yet though perhaps his speaking to Hannah of their matters had been a mistake they had learned that she only had their best wishes at heart, especially Jude’s, she and Leonie had even become friends. He let these thoughts spill from him, knocking down his walls, too weak to keep them up and block Alaric from them. His fear, his hurt, his desire to have them understand that he would never knowingly bring his family to harm.


STERLING Under any other circumstance, he would have leapt at the chance to research the subject with barely contained enthusiasm. In many ways, he was still very much the bookish young man turned scholar that had been both his passion and a subject of ridicule in equal measure. The man was happiest when presented with a challenge; a dilemma to solve. Something tangled and complex that defied scientific explanation. Instead, he was barely able to mask his exasperation. His gaze softened as Judah spoke, giving voice to the anxiety that had plagued him for days. "Just...to make sure we're clear. You want to look for the solution in a book that may or may not be easily found." He gestured curtly to Jude, hissing out a sigh. "That seems like a waste of time. Time that he doesn't have. Isolating the cause is one thing. But you're hinging potential hours on locating this book." He paused, shooting him a level look. "Are you willing to gamble the odds of finding the information you need in time against his life? Because I'm not."


[ALARIC VON DER MARCK] There were things they all tried to keep from Alaric, in part. Mostly innocent. Deeply in tune with Judah, he could feel that wall crumbling and he felt for the man. He was afraid -- and not just of the creature that haunted him. His hand found Judah's shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Hannah was a different story. And Judah had not known that Sterling could pose a threat, if he wanted to. Alaric's trust in Judah was unwavering. "Es wird in Ordnung sein," he said to Judah. It will be okay. And then, to Sterling: "No. My English is new. Maybe you misunderstood," he said, being kind though he knew he'd been quite clear. "I have a book. It is a book that I remember. My library is not that big. This estate is not that big. It will not take me hours to walk there and back. It will only take minutes. If you had a better solution, you would not be here," he said. "Do you want to stand here and argue what we should do next, or should I go to get the book?"


JUDAH "Let's just go to the library. If I don't move i'll sleep, and if I sleep then we are running out of time. I need to stay awake until we have some kind of plan to..." To what, he wasn't sure. He looked between the two men entreatingly, hoping for some semblance of peace though with the new information he had he understood both of them leaning towards distrust. Sterling had not killed the crazy vampire who'd broken his door earlier, and he had dated one of the undead so he figured the man had no intention of hurting Alaric. He was just worried about Jude, he could see it in his face, in the tension of him and it meant that for now he was able to ignore the questions that surrounded him. He needed all the support he could get, he understood the man’s curt reaction was out of anxiety. Alaric was untrusting of many, it had even taken him time to trust his blood again after the betrayal that had killed him, having been brought back from the abyss a somewhat broken man. It had taken months to get him to a place where he could begin again, to try and overcome this. Sometimes he could be archaic, he could come off as stiff and not always likable in those uncertain early days, but he had been kind and loving to his family once he accepted that they were his kin who would not hurt him, had embraced them and learned from them. It had taken time and patience, overcoming hurdles and trying to let go of bitterness that clung to them. It wasn't easy, but they had comes leaps and bounds together. He understood Alaric's frustration at the man, his not wanting him involved but as much as Judah needed his family, he needed the person who had been devoted to his safety and sanity since the dreams had begun. Sterling didn't have to help him, he was not obligated and yet he was unrelenting in his desire to see Jude well. He wished Alaric could feel this, could see it, he tried so hard to beg the man in his mind for patience, for understanding again and apologised for asking it. His hand moved to cover Alaric's, fingers curling around the elders, drawing it to his mouth so he could press a chaste kiss against the man's knuckles. In German he spoke aloud, softly. "Please, the book. I need you to come with me into the dreams, to help me fight and I need him to hold me down so I do not do anyone or myself harm while we do so. He is strong, and he cares for me. I will not see harm done to you, ever, Alaric, not by my hand. I trust him, I know you do not and I understand but I need this."


STERLING The look Sterling leveled on Alaric suggested that he wasn't entirely sure whether the man was deliberately feigning ignorance in an effort to bait him, or whether he was assigning judgment unfairly. He bit his tongue, the muscle along his jaw briefly tightening with the effort of swallowing back the correction. The desire to point out that the man's ability to remember the contents of a book didn't promise that he would remember its location, or that it would even have answers beyond a basic summary of the knowledge they already had. In his younger years, he would have taken the bait; allowed that brief spark of annoyance flare into aggression. As it was, his attention shifted to Judah. "Mm. My point." They did not have a plan. The expectation that a book would salvage their utter lack of direction was a stretch at best, unrealistic at worst. "I'd prefer it if you would stop condescending to your family. Beyond that..." He shrugged, the gesture tired. "It's up to Jude."


[ALARIC VON DER MARCK] Alaric did not see the point in arguing with Sterling. There was Judah to think of, Judah, whose thoughts tumbled around in Alaric's head like unswattable moths -- though moths could be beautiful in their mindless bumbling, and Alaric was not in the habit of swatting them away. He did not know whether this stranger could understand the German that they spoke to each other, but he knew that Leonie could -- the look he gave to the Lioness was unmistakable. Judah wanted Sterling there to hold him down, to watch over him. It wasn't harm from Judah's hand that Alaric was wary of, however. The look that Alaric gave Leonie spoke volumes -- she would be there, too. If both men were sleeping, she would be there to keep watch over Alaric's prone and defenseless body. She could keep an eye on the potential foe in their midst. Alaric trusted that the man would not do Judah harm. He trusted Judah's unfailing optimism when it came to others. But it wasn't an optimism the elder had the luxury of sharing. Where the hunter got the impression that Alaric was being condescending toward Judah, he did not know. But would not argue that he surely was returning the condescension Sterling himself had leveled upon the elder from the first time they clapped eyes on each other. I have discussed with the elders of the Algonquin, when I was living more than two centuries ago. They have myths, about the Wendigo. I did not realise in the dream, but the similarities struck me when I woke, he spoke directly to Judah and Leonie's minds. He had nodded, and was helping Judah to his feet, leading the way to the library. It was up to Jude. Jude wanted to go to the library, as already stated. If the answers are not in my journal, I know the location of the book that will help. It will tell us how to rid you of them, he said. As tempting as it might have been to put Sterling in his place, he was right. They didn't have the time for it.

LEONIE The dark haired Lioness was gritting her teeth by now, the wavering between bickering, subtle tastes of a brewing conflict, and the quickening in the pit of her stomach had her sending the text anyway, just to be safe.. At this point, it was Alaric’s safety in the presence of a hunter that held her highest concern, followed closely by worry for Judah’s imminent jaunt back into the terror-riddled sleep that had been plaguing him for some time. But at the smart-mouthedness that continued, she couldn’t keep silent any longer. “With all due respect, Sterling, you’ve entered our home and been unflinchingly rude to the one person who probably has the best chance at actually helping Judah. No one is condescending to anyone. So let’s knock the posturing ******** off for a hot minute and get to it. Mkay?” Her tone was calm, maybe even friendly to an untuned ear, but her gaze was sharper than ever as her patience with him wore thinner by the moment.


JUDAH Judah winced quietly at the bitter interactions, knowing that it would be no easy fix if he was ever in his right mind once more to do so. He was tired of the family he’d devoted himself to, the family he’d given so much for, having immediate distrust of anyone who gave him a minor amount of peace. This situation should have been the exception, and while it was more extreme it wasn’t the first time he’d felt oddly exiled for having interests and affections outside of the family. The von der Marck’s were an insular group, and while he’d had friends growing up outside of it he hadn’t realised quite how different they were until he’d gone away to College and begun to live an adult life all his own. While his devotion never wavered he did understand that from the outside looking in they were a world unto themselves and that bringing anyone into the fold would be a difficult task. Judah felt a strange pang of respect and affection for his mother and dearly departed wife, women who had walked the gauntlet to be with the men they loved. It was why he hadn’t brought Sterling by yet, not ready for him to see behind the curtains into the other part of Jude’s life, the biggest part perhaps. Not prepared to admit that he might eventually be ready to consider bringing someone new home to meet the family. He wondered how things would have gone if he had, when there wasn’t a mystery to solve, a problem to fix.

Judah let Alaric help him up, listening to his words and nodding his head, accepting the proposition. Upon standing he reached for Sterling, almost a subconscious action, to keep himself upright. His fingers curved around a bicep, using the grip to draw himself against the man’s side for support. He was ready to walk, to move and face the darkness that swarmed at the corners of his vision but stopped dead in his tracks, his body tensing and spine straightening. The look he turned on Leonie was a mixture of old pain, flustered disbelief and a quiet gravity that may have spoken volumes to her once upon a time. He could feel the judgement rolling off her and was not in the mood to accept it. Jude figured from her point of view she thought she was assisting but he believed the often proud Lioness’ choice of words entirely unnecessary as both Alaric and Sterling had already seemed to begrudgingly accept that neither was going to leave Jude until they’d solved the issue. It felt not unlike the times she’d spoken down to him in the past out of judgement and anger over his choices and actions, behaving for all the world as if she herself was without mistakes. That echo of past trespasses left a bad taste in his mouth, Leonie’s righteous irritation was always a bitter pill to swallow even if it wasn’t aimed directly at him.. He could forgive and understand Alaric’s speaking out, but this addition felt like an unhelpful barb that lacked the maturity he thought she had finally gained. It took everything in him to swallow the worst of the frustration and remind himself that he cared for her and sincerely wanted to work on mending the rift between them not widen it with harsh words. He knew she didn’t mean it to upset him, that she was stressed as they all were by the situation. He took a deep breath, addressing her.

“Leonie.” His tone was sharp, dulled around the edges by weariness and a subtle pleading that added a strange note of intimacy to his subsequent request. “Don’t. I’m begging you, Lioness. Please, for the sake of any patience I have left… Everyone is aware of the awkward in the room right now, we don’t need to add to it further. Alaric can handle himself and I can handle Sterling, trust me when I say that I will at a more appropriate time. Yes, we should focus on Wendigo’s and how to stop them killing me or making me one of them, not fighting. That much I agree with. I think Alaric would appreciate your presence, to make sure we both come out of this ok. I would appreciate it, too.” His voice lowered as he turned toward Sterling, imploring. “Sterling… I get it, you’re… No, I don’t get that, I don’t get that and we will deal with it later, but Alaric is family, and the oldest member we have. He’s old-fashioned but he isn’t an idiot, and he doesn’t want to hurt me. He’s a guy who has seen some **** and if he says he has an idea of what to do, then i’m going to let him try but…” There was a vulnerability to him, a fragility that made him feel like a much younger man. “I need you, i’m not sure I can get through it without you, even if i’m confused or a little angry.” His face turned to press against the man’s shoulder, eyes closing. “If we don’t work together, I’m fucked.” His face fell as the reality of it hit him, barely keeping himself awake, exhaustion tugging at him and an anxiety lapping at his insides, stirring them into churning discomfort.


STERLING Sterling’s patience had steadily been fraying over the course of several minutes. It was Leonie’s sharp tone that saw to the severing of the last lingering, fragile strands. The rational part of his mind could forgive the barb. It was the hypocrisy that got under his skin. That either Leonie or Alaric would chide him for perceived rudeness coaxed a shallow, sharp bark of laughter from him. The sound was harsh and humorless. Alaric and Leonie alike were rank with hypocrisy. Alaric had greeted his arrival with immediate aggression and hostility, relying on a mixture of both instinct and assumption. An assumption that Leonie blindly followed, as if entirely incapable of independent thought. While the former was understandable, and he could have forgiven it, shrugged it off, the latter left him bristling. Instinct was scouring him raw by degrees; like the aged coils of steel wool folded in sandpaper and run along the edges of an open wound. He was, in that moment, strongly of the opinion that his time would be better served by returning Alaric to the Shadow Realm, before he had a chance to propagate his diseased bloodline further. The haze of disgust that crowded against his thoughts with a bleak and cancerous weight left him disoriented; he could hear his own ragged breaths as his lungs struggled to draw in oxygen as if starved for it, as if a desperate lungful would be enough to cool his fevered thoughts. Clear his head. His lips parted, and the gaze he fixed on Leonie was flinty. “It’s a little convenient that you want to help now,” he retorted. “Where were you two weeks ago? Where was Alaric, if he’s so qualified to help? Mm?” The words escaped in a bitter torrent. It was perhaps unfair, but neither of them could claim the shared horror of the past handful of weeks. The utter exhaustion and the sense of hopelessness that had taken root in gradual, creeping degrees at the core of their relationship.

He nearly flinched as Jude reached for him, the unexpected contact doing little to staunch the adrenaline that coursed through him. He didn’t resist his hold, letting him leverage himself against his side. A mixture of emotions flickered across his face as Judah turned to face him; exasperation and mild discomfort, fading into an uncertain, quiet hurt. If he’d trusted himself to combat the wave of nausea that washed over him, body rebelling in defiance of his inaction to the point where he could taste the first stirrings of bile at the back of his throat - he might have spoken. As it was, he swallowed roughly, demurring lowly, even as he felt a visceral part of himself - primitive and predatory - balk at the suggestion that he help something so unnatural. Alaric was far past his shelf life. “He doesn’t know more than either of us. He’s pretty much admitted it, Jude. You’re taking a gamble - playing guinea pig - on his say-so. I’m not comfortable with…” He managed, voice low. He trailed off, resigned as Jude’s face tucked against his shoulder. “Fine,” he exhaled.


[ALARIC VON DER MARCK] The overarching theme in everyone’s sharp words was the same; stop bickering, help Judah. And yet, the bickering continued. Leonie had said what Alaric was thinking -- Sterling had no room to talk, because he was not innocent insofar as attitude was concerned. Alaric was not going to apologise for his actions, as they were spurred by Sterling’s tone -- his instant tense defensiveness, as if Alaric had somehow given Judah the impression he had something to apologise for. His assumption that Alaric had a bone to pick when Alaric had done no such thing -- he’d mentioned Sterling’s status to Judah’s mind and had not reacted, at all, to Sterling. From the very beginning all Alaric had wanted to do was help Judah.

Now, here they were. Still bickering, with Judah begging them to stop -- on threat of his life. His weight shifted from Alaric to Sterling, words of both admonishment and severe need uttered to the other man, Judah clinging to him as if Sterling were the only thing that mattered. Judah had mentioned Sterling to Alaric not too long ago. He recalled being happy for Judah, knowing that the man had someone special in his life, someone he could lean on. Was this the man? Judah had never mentioned a name. Was that more than two weeks ago? Alaric shook his head.

“We cannot help a man who has not told us anything is wrong. Had I known two weeks ago, I would have helped two weeks ago,” he said, his tone reserved now, resigned even. When he reached out every night that he woke up, he only touched at the minds of his family. He trusted them to keep his secret and so he would not pry into theirs; he never delved deep enough in Judah’s mind to realise something was amiss.

“Leonie, I need you to stay, please” he said, mind brushing against hers reassuringly before turning his back on the trio to head toward the stairs, to begin to move up them. If the others wanted to help Judah, then they would follow. He would not justify himself nor his knowledge to Sterling. The amount of reading Alaric did, the amount of research on this city and the creatures that inhabited it, he was willing to bet that no one knew exactly what they were dealing with. No matter who they went to, the answers would be the same. He’d already told Judah how he knew what he knew. It was Judah’s trust he needed. Sterling’s did not matter.


LEONIE The woman had a hard time biting back the sharp retort that wanted instantly to rise to her lips, burning in the back of her throat like bitter bile, to shove back the urge to let that fire out to play and burn the snark right from him, but Alaric answered for her. They didn’t know. She hadn’t known until only a few nights prior, herself, and Judah hadn’t been exactly forthcoming with how bad things actually were getting for him. It was she who had begged him to seek Alaric, to see if he could help, after all. And so the most she reacted with toward Sterling was a pitying sneer. If the hunter wanted to believe he was Judah’s one and only true Savior, so be it. But none of them, not even Alaric with all of his gifts, were mind readers. Had she been in a more charitable state of mind, the Lioness could have forgiven the outright nastiness and conceded that Sterling may have assumed Judah was in constant contact with his blood, but... neither was the case where she was concerned.

Her softness toward Judah, though, even now, allowed her to ignore his sharp tone - she would chalk it up to the sheer exhaustion brought on by the lack of sleep, though a small part of her was outraged that there was any reprimand there at all. A steadying breath had to be drawn. She’d done everything he’d asked over the many years, everything, all the way to staying as far away as she could after their big blowout almost a year before, only maintaining her presence near to his, with a clear wall between them, when he decided to suffer it himself. She had looked up to him, sought him for advice and answers for so long and had made considerable strides since moving into the Estate. The only time she’d ever spoken against him, aside from that bitter fight, was when he’d brought Hannah around and she learned he’d told her about Alaric, before vampires were known to be in the City limits. She hadn’t been able to hold the reaction back then, fear and responsibility driving her as it did now. What was the point of everything they’d sacrificed to bring Alaric back, after all, only to put him in potential danger?

But this time, she would do her best to keep her mouth shut until later. Alaric could take care of himself, though that didn’t remove her worrying for him or concern for his safety. At the very least, Judah could plead as much ignorance in befriending a hunter as she and Alaric could to knowledge of his condition. There was some comfort in that. And so it was the plea in Judah’s tone beneath his words, with that extra facet to it that spoke to something deeper, that at last had the strange frigidity in her chest melting. She drew in another breath, centering herself and her temper, and gave one single nod to their Patriarch before she followed after him, one eye on the pair behind all the while. She didn’t trust that the hunter’s care and concern for Judah would outweigh any potential desire to bring Alaric harm; though no outright threat had been made, Alaric’s ’tells’ weren’t to be ignored, and especially not the gentle direction to stay. Neither were her own instincts, for that matter, something she had learned the hard way more than once.

JUDAH “They didn’t really know…” His voice was roughened with the need for sleep, quiet with some sort of unnamed guilt. It wasn’t that he’d been trying to keep it a secret from them so much as he hadn’t really believed it was happening, he’d thought it was some bad dreams he’d earned from finally beginning to address his grief in a more healthy manner, by facing it and coping with it. Not only his grief but his mistakes, and failings of the heart. Where he’d let himself and others down, a difficult thing to acknowledge for the man who worked so hard to keep everyone he cared for safe and happy, who had put himself on the back burner to help them onto the right path. He hadn’t wanted to be a burden, he never wanted to. Rarely did he seek help from them until it was a time of desperate measures, not because he didn’t love or trust his family, not because he didn’t think they would but because HE was the one who was supposed to have it all together. He was always the one who had to pick up the pieces and put them back together so things kept ticking. It had been that way for years, Jude swallowing pain and pride when he had to, seeking out and assisting von der Marck’s near and far to ignite the family fire, restore them to a former glory. For what? He looked at Alaric, a silent thought nagging at him. For him. In the end, it had been for Alaric and the idea he represented. Unity hadn’t come from his return, it was still a lot of work and struggle, but one day it might all be worthwhile. For that he needed to try, surely. Sterling may not understand it, he hadn’t really given the man a chance to and he knew that.

“Library we’ll… We can all sit and talk later. We can sort this if…” If I get through this ok, he thought. If he didn’t succumb to sleep and fight them off to get to the creatures that called him. While at first he’d thought them far away, trying to lure him to them he feared they might get more brazen. Could they come to him? Here near the forest he wondered how close they could get, they always seemed to like the cover of trees and darkness for hunting him in dreams. “I trust that Alaric knows enough, and has abilities that…” Jude sighed heavily, unsure how much to say, how much Alaric would allow the man to know even if he was helping them. He leaned forward with intention to walk, glancing once more at Leonie, giving her a fleeting smile before he took his first few unsteady steps. The movement helped, it kept him more focused, putting each foot in front of the other with some effort to haul himself up the stairs. He didn’t want to leave Sterling behind, his fingers had tangled in his shirt where they’d landed above his hip, arm slung around his back. In the newly found silence as they followed Alaric and Leonie Jude turned his face once more, leaning up to deliver an uncertain brush of lips against the stubble of the man’s cheek, finally releasing him to step forward and through the doors of the library.

The room was familiar to him, it had been a place he’d used in relative peace for years before Alaric had returned and reclaimed it, somewhere he still went to store and seek records he’d organised. There were rows of volumes he could navigate in his sleep, many had been bound his own hand, others from previous Chronicler’s and each in surprisingly immaculate condition but well used, the age of them evident in the creases at the spine and softening of the leather. Now he barely spared them a cursory glance, a flick of those warm brown eyes that assured the continued existence of them before he went to drop himself onto a seat. He almost threw his body into his favourite of the well worn armchairs, the one that almost anyone who visited the manner more than once knew he favoured, but at the last minute went to the matching leather lounge seat big enough for two, curling himself up into one corner of it. His head rolled back to rest against it, breathing in the soft scent of leather and books, exposing the pale expanse of neck to the room, the posture of someone vulnerable and too world weary to do much about it.


[ALARIC VON DER MARCK] A glance was spared only to be sure that he was being followed. His face was impassive, though when he turned forward again, stepping through the doors of the library -- a place that he claimed as sanctuary -- he could not help the scowl that no one else would see. The rooms would be tainted by the presence of the hunter. Alaric would forever remain unsure of the safety these walls had previously provided.

Alaric did not turn back. Even as the others filed in behind him, Judah and Sterling finding a couch to settle on, Alaric went directly for the iron stairs. He took them up, two at a time, and disappeared for only five seconds while he found the shelf that he was looking for, upon which the exact location of the book known. The dusty tome was plucked from its next and, holding it to his chest, Alaric returned to the others. The book was not small -- it was larger than an A4 piece of paper, and twice as thick as a George R R Martin novel. The pages were two centuries old and the vellum should have been handled with white gloves, if it were going to last two centuries more. But, time was of the essence -- as everyone wanted to remind Alaric.

The book was dropped onto the table in the middle of the quartet, pages turned until the right page was found. It was written in German, the title ‘Wendigo’ in old Germanic text. Alaric read, and rubbed at his temple.

“It is trying to possess you,” Alaric said to Judah. “It is trying to take over your mind, to force you out of your own body,” he said, then turned to Sterling, and then to Leonie and back again. The Wendigo was described as one of the most fearsome creatures in the forest, near impossible to kill. Alaric’s expression was hard. It was uneasy.

“We need silver. Bullets, or blades. Both. We need fire,” he said. “We need to kill the Wendigo that is wanting Judah. To kill it, We will have to bring it to us. We have to trap it,” he said, again staring at them each in turn. They were three humans and a vampire. Could they overcome a Wendigo? Or would he be putting them in more danger?

“We need to drive a silver stake through its heart...”


LEONIE The Lioness kept her gaze steady and neutral, though it only hid the absolute whirlwind within. She had no idea what was coming, what was planned, or what she would even be able to do, if needed. But Alaric trusted her and so that must surely mean he trusted she would just know, if the time came, how to help. She didn’t sit, instead opting to lean against a nearby side table that was closer to the patriarch than the two others.

It was almost impossible not to jump when the book was dropped before them, though her gaze was soon drawn to the pages. It was a tome she’d not seen before, but she could make out some of the archaic words when she squinted at it. She’d seen others like it, too... like that night she and Lucia, years before, had broken into and explored the inner tunnels of the old estate in Germany, that they’d called home, via a false wall. It had all the hallmarks of an old-timey murder mystery and, knowing some of the lore as they did, had found it all but irresistible that night they’d been left to their own devices. Her sister was older than her by well over a decade, but that night had both screaming like terrified children as they booked it back out and into the relative safety of Leonie’s bedroom. They’d gone off in search of the supposed old crime scene where the lives of their grandmother Clarimonde and their great-great grandfather Kaiser had been brutally taken back in the Sixties. The official story had always been a tale of a Manson-esque sort of murder, but Lucia had heard other rumors growing up, and Leonie had found more than a few documents about it that contradicted that notion in her voracious reading. For all intents and purposes, a pregnant Clarimonde and her elderly great-grandfather-in-law had descended into a hidden room deep underground and succumbed to something otherworldly, taking what would have been Leonie’s only von der Marck aunt or uncle with them.

She sucked in a breath as she recalled what they had seen: blood, brown and faded, still adorned the walls where it had splashed, as well as on a round granite table reminiscent of the one they’d used to raise Alaric. Leonie was fairly certain a tooth had been embedded in one stone block, seemingly driven there by force. Old, bloody prints had trailed along the floors and walls, and they had not been made by anything human - she was sure of it. So was Lucia. She shuddered then, hard but quick, at the memory. It seemed whoever had taken charge of the mess had done little more than remove what remains were still recognizable for burial and had closed up and sealed off the only entry to that particular tunnel. It should have been enough for them to stay away, but what could be more enticing to two bored young people than something so deliciously creepy?

All of that was disgusting enough, but it was the sound that had risen, softly chanting at first before it rose to a shriek out of nowhere, in an otherworldly tenor that seemed to try and swallow them whole. Leonie had been reading, haltingly, from an ancient-looking text left open upon the table, the old German easy enough to understand but harder to pronounce. She had tried to snatch it up at the last minute, but it was stuck, whether by decades-old spilled blood or something more sinister, she could not say. Lucia had grabbed her arm and practically yanked her out of the room before she had a chance to figure it out...

She shook herself back into the present as Alaric’s voice took precedence within her awareness once more. He had an uneasy look about him as he spoke, and she swallowed hard as her focus honed in on him and what he was saying.

“Wh... where do we find that stuff? And how?”


JUDAH Judah looked between them all, trying to process what was being suggested and what exactly was going on. “Wait! Slow down… Just… Slow down.” He held his hands up as if to ward them off, choking on a deep breath that didn’t seem to want to be exhaled smoothly. “Ok, ok. So you’re saying that it can come HERE!? I thought it couldn’t. It kept trying to make me go somewhere, I thought i’d be safe here. Alaric, I thought it couldn’t get to me, get to any of YOU.” There was panicking cracking through his exhaustion, making him appear more awake, frantic and alert in a way that had his hands curving claw like when he gripped the plush arm of the couch he had poured himself into. “Now you are talking about silver and fire? I shouldn’t have come, i’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought this on any of you. I’ll just… I’ll just go.” He made to stand, trying to drag himself bodily from the couch, but his legs felt jelly and his hands seemed uncooperative as he tried to pry them from where they clung to a steadying surface. He sort of went limp, sliding back down, barely making it into the seat where he stayed wearing a look of complete dismay. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Jude was sure he’d asked the question before, but he didn’t care, he was convinced now that it was the only option to keep everyone safe. Once again he envisioned himself walking into that dark forest of his dreams, letting the arms of loved ones wrap around him, turning to bone and bark, to claws and teeth snarling at his throat. Going to an end. “I can make it. I’ll go there.” He spoke, not entirely sure who he spoke to, perhaps it was to the Wendigo who called to him in his sleep.


STERLING A low noise of incredulous disbelief rose in his throat. It was a muffled bark of laughter, smothered behind a dry cough. It was far from convincing as recovery attempts went, though he’d long ago given up on subtly. “What D&D handbook did you dust off? You’re thinking of werewolves.” The edge to his tone was pointed, threatening to buckle under the combined weight of exhaustion and a coiled anxiety that, far from abating, had only increased the longer he entertained Alaric’s presence. It wasn’t the wisest - or kindest- remark, in light of Jude’s quiet entreaty for cooperation. It was Jude’s question that brought him up short. The words were thin, curiously flat. There was a resignation in the question that was heartbreaking. He crossed over to him a moment later, a steadying hand sliding underneath his arm as Jude struggled to stand, grip relaxing as Jude slumped back into his seat a moment later, head lowering so that his lips brushed against his ear.

“You want to get out of here?” The offer was sincere. Jude only had to say the word - to acknowledge he’d had enough of the posturing and the charade of superiority - and he would gladly honor his wishes, even if it meant bodily bundling him out to the car. This was clearly not the sanctuary he’d stylized it; the stress wasn’t doing the man any favors. He froze a moment later. What little composure remaining to Jude quickly unraveled, lost in his rapid, dazed speech. “Hey, no,” he murmured, hand drifting to rest against his back, fingertips massaging in tight, slow semi-circles against the muscles there soothingly, “you aren’t doing that. I told you we’d figure this out.” He paused. “Jude the martyr doesn’t have quite the ring you think it does. Just sit tight. Stay with me.” His gaze lifted a moment later, his expression grim, “Whatever it is you’re planning, you’d better do it sooner rather than later. For his sake.”

The Lioness was doing all she could to keep from biting through tongue or cheek as her own anger flared. The hunter maintained his disrespectful tone, but Judah’s own was nearly heartbreaking. Still, her gaze snapped sharply to the other and a single shake of her head was given. She dearly wished she could slap some sense into him; he could continue his hatred all he wanted, but seemed insistent on refusing to set aside his acrimony aside, even for Judah’s sake. Though any advice that fell from her lips would likely fall on deaf ears on Jude’s part, she sort of hoped he’d see this behavior and think on it some. Perhaps even hold out for a more suitable partner, because this guy… well. He was the very definition of ‘piece of work.’ In Leonie’s brief and sharp estimation, Judah could do far better.

So when Alaric suggested he and she would retrieve the weapons, she straightened up from where she leaned her tall frame against the table and nodded to the Elder as she moved closer to him. With a slow draw of her breath, she waited for him to lead the way.