Cry Wolf [Cagey/Family]

[Jacob Regan]

From the very beginning it was a journey fated to fail. The deck had been stacked against him even before he knew he was to start. Soldier of fortune turned rebel without a cause only to find the fires of vengeance and redemption to steer him. To call it tragic would be an underestimation of the events that shaped the man he had become and yet the drama and romance aside his story was too elaborate and complex to be defined by a singular term. Doomed love, fierce lust and darkest passion all combine with the remarkable intensity of tragic sorrows that all lead to this one point in time.

A city once loved and hated in equal measure now only portrayed in silver scape the reminiscences of a past best left undisturbed, but never forgotten. No never forgotten. How he wished he could forget.
It had been nearly two years since he ventured these streets, stalked these catacombs and hunted these grounds. He had lost touch with all he once held dear and sought to build. Dreams had turned to ash in the back of his desiccated throat, the power once held bled away till only a nameless yearning remained and after that too was gone a void settled in. Deep and merciless darkness where dwelled the demons that would eventually drive him insane. If only he could forget.
For the longest time her ghost haunted him, for the longest time it threatened to sunder his soul and finally drive him into the abyssal dark from which there would have been no return.
If only he could have forgotten, if only.
But memory or love, desire or dream, whatever name or shape it chose would not let him forget. And as time in his dark isolation passed the ghosts that haunted him changed shape, dissolved and transformed until only one remained.
She called to him, yearningly begging just beyond the edge of hearing and touch. Drifting between the pieces of what remained of his sanity until all that was left was her fading spectral grace.

Crouched now in shadow he stared down at a world he’d left behind, a world he’d grown out of touch with. Was it possible to reconnect, to begin again. Not to pick up where he’d left off, but rather to seek a new start. Cliché perhaps, but what was life if not an endless string of cliché’s. Life, the thought made him smirk. Down there somewhere was a life for him, one to be lived if he could muster up the resolve to take it. You didn’t need to be alive to live, not in this dark world.
He wanted to live though, to live the life that had brought him back.
She was down there somewhere and though he looked forward to seeing her again he also felt a reasonable fear of their inevitable meet.
Lighting a Red 100 he drew in a lungful of stale smoke and readied himself for the track ahead.
“Ready or not…”

[Cagey Lane]

The darkness had taken her for a long time. She saw no point in remaining awake with everyone gone. Her family she had tried to regroup. Her lack of knowledge in doing that kept it unsuccessful. Noble became a dying breed and she went with it. The following months were a long lonely road. His presence was missed too much.

She often looked to the woods, heard the howls , felt a slight presence. Her mind grew weary trying to exist. Maybe someday their family would be reunited. Maybe someday she would be driven again. So she slept. Her still form in a crypt far away from those that knew her or cared. If even anyone remembered anymore. A year ? Is that how long she played in the darkness ?

Her green eyes flew open. Sitting up on the hard cold slab , her eyes searched the room . It was still , cold and dark. Yet she felt it. Was that still possible after all this time. ? Was their connection still that strong ? She swung her legs over the sides, landing one the dusty floor with her bare feet. Pulling the doors open , the cool night air hitting her face . She closed those ember eyes , taking in the scent of the spring air.

The folds of her dress blew behind her as she made her way thru the woods to just the outskirts of town. To the place where her sire had brought them telling them she was leaving and leaving the family to her. Behind her , the woods where he had disappeared into . Starting a small fire with the supplies left behind so long ago, she sat on the log. He was there, she felt him. Not sure what to expect at this point, she just waited . He would come ..... at least she prayed to the Goddess he would.

[Jacob Regan]

His clothes ragged from the months he’d gone to ground seemed to creak as he moved, clinging to the dust and dirt as one would a long lost lover. His dark eyes flashed golden in the lights of a passing car. He looked as out of place as he felt. The streets once welcome beneath his feet now stretched out almost alien before him. There were new ones and old ones all around him, aura’s left behind in their passing, tendrils of scents drifting.
Here the fragrance of blood from a recent feeding, there the touch of a kiss heated with desire. He could almost see them moving about in his minds eye, distractions all. The traces of what he sought were faint, imaginary almost but here and there he got hints. Hunger gnawed at his gut, the thirst nearly blinding as it closed around the confines of his dry throat. Blood meant power, life, the essence of what he needed to aid his quest and yet he’d only partook in the bare necessity. Later, there would be time enough. Would there?
Think about it, he did.

In that moment he overheard two men arguing. The sound came from inside what looked like an abandoned building and it drew him like a moth to a flame. He didn’t comprehend what was the pull until he heard them. They were arguing over a book, a tomb. More men, sounds, movement and the crack of gunfire. The gunpowder burn mingling teasingly with the coppery iron of blood. Stealing into the shadows of the building he moved with care, prowling, hunting for the sake of curiosity and the thirst.
Finding a fallen body barely breathing behind a crate he indulged as he listened to the argument going on ahead.
“You can’t take it with force, so how will you take it from me?” The reply was a mutter of frustration drowned in the rush of blood through his veins. Rising he watched the two men intently stare at a leather bound book they held. They seemed intent on it and yet it seemed like they were each separate arms of a pedestal that housed the book.
He found his gaze drawn to it, there was magic here, the taste of it was unmistakeable as it crawled over his skin.

Moments later his blurred form left the two men chasing shadows as he made away with the book. Coming to a stop he stared at it, whatever had drawn him in earlier seemed to be gone and for a moment he was confused and irritated. He hated magic. Throw it away or keep it, he almost threw it away. Instead he held onto it, it felt strangely comforting. There will be time for it later,
Back to the task at hand, remember, track.
His eyes blazed with a new found will, or perhaps an old ember rekindled in the thrill of a kill. Head raised he scented the air, felt the vibrations of the air on his skin and listened to the breath of the night as it whispered passed his ears. This way, That way. There.

Moving away from the city lights he made his way to a place he’d rather have avoided, yet it seemed almost poetic justice. A fools reasoning, there was no such thing as justice, poetic or otherwise. And yet what justice awaited him, what trial or verdict and did it even matter.
It did not. All that mattered was facing the ghosts that woke him, that drew him back.
He smelled the smoke before he saw the flicker of the light the flame cast. Where earlier he was drawn to caution and stealth he now felt no need for that. Yet caution would be wise, would it not?
She was there he knew, a fawn waiting to be devoured. A lioness waiting to strike. Her presence was damp with old remembered emotions, he failed to reach them though. The ghost stole that, she stole that. What had he expected, he was unsure and perhaps he hadn’t expected anything.
All thoughts of present and past resolve left him as he stared upon her face in the dancing light of the fire, the shadows that played over her skin seemed to tell the story of their time lost and to hide even yet tales untold.
“Your eyes are different?”

[Cagey Lane]

She sat there waiting. Like she had nights before. Hearing him , yet not within her reach. Her heart ached every time, She knew though one day....

The flames danced, her mind seeing images within its light. She sat, hands folded in her lap until she felt him. Her emerald eyes looked up as he approached. She stood , looking at him. Her eyes filling with unshed tears. So many emotions fleeting across her soft features . Was he really standing here ? Or was this just another wishful thinking coming to her again.

His voice , even though soft, filled the area. His voice. The one she had heard so many nights before. In her head, In her heart. Her fingers clenched in a ball. Parts of her wanting to punch him .....hard. Yet all she could do was look at him. She took the few steps that seperated them. Still not having said a word , she reached up. Her slender fingers shaking , she touched his face. Softly, slowly as if memorizing the features all over again.

A small pop from the fire, made her jump . Not exactly sure how or what, she found herself throwing her arms around his neck with a soft sob. His name the only word she said as it slipped from her lips " Jacob "