Within room 9 at the Mountain Trail Inn, Derek waited for the telltale knock to come from door. The wait was excruciating. The drive here took longer than what it would have if he had taken the main roads. He looked at his watch for the eighth time. Where are you?
     The knock finally came, sounding out in certain rhythm. Derek answered the door without hesitation.
     William, and only William, stood on the other side. Relieved, Derek ushered him in and quickly closed the door. Before William had a change find a seat, he was already bombarded by questions.
     “Did everyone make it out all right?” Derek asked, grabbing a fresh cigarette from the nightstand. “What does the scene look like now?”
     William decided to remain standing as he replied, “The Yukons left yesterday evening, and there’s been no activity since. I don’t think they made it out in time. Melissa’s car is still in the driveway. There’s a chance they could’ve escaped in the woods, but it’s been four days. I haven’t heard from Adrian either. Man, some serious shit is going on right now. Are you sure you want to go back now?”
     “I need to see the aftermath first hand,” he said, as he gathered up what little belongings he had. “Let’s get me home, shall we?”

William wanted to help his friend, but he also wanted to stay clear of anything involving SEVEN. The fear wasn’t from the unknown, but from the known. He had his run-ins with the group before, and all left him with many unanswered questions. But this was Derek’s turn at bat. William even struggled come this far to lend a hand. As he dropped his friend off a mile from his house, he said a short prayer to every god and deity he could think of. The man was in need of some good news right now.
     Derek found the front door unlocked, which didn’t surprise him much. At least the door was shut. In the living room he found everything disheveled: the cushions to the sofa scattered about, the cabinets to the entertainment center flung open, and even the small closet by the front door was ransacked. His shoulders slumped at the scene.
     Leaving the lights off he went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
     The beer was gone.
     “Son-of-a-bitch. Break into my house, steal my beer”—he opened the freezer door—“and my burritos.”
     Shaking his head in disbelief, he headed downstairs to survey the rest of the damage. On first glance he could tell that his “guests” spent great care in these rooms. The War Room was empty of all their weapons, including the cheap novelty ones. The other rooms were just as bad. All of the computers, paperwork, silver, and including the beer from the other refrigerator, were missing.
     Crossing by the Game Room, Derek stopped in mid step. Though the lights were off in this one room, he could see the figure of a man sitting on the sofa. Derek knew he had been seen and made no attempt to run. Forcing himself to play it cool, he turned to face the man.
     “It’s about time you returned,” the man said. “Curiosity killed the cat.”
     “Meow, meow.” Derek slid his hands into his pockets. “Does SEVEN know that they’re missing a flunky?”
     “I’m not from SEVEN. Think higher on that food chain.”
     Derek shrugged. “Sorry. Drawing a blank here.”
     As quickly as he could, Derek jumped into action and ran for the stairs. He made it halfway up the stairs before feeling strong hands on his clothes, pulling him back and onto the floor. Derek’s breath abandoned him. He gasped then coughed. The hands were at him once more, lifting him into the air. Looking down he saw the man’s dark, wild eyes, each dusted with yellow. A sound left the man, a mix between a angry hiss and low growl. His sneer shown two sets of fangs on top and another set on the bottom.
     “Your way of life here is far too dangerous to remain unchecked,” he growled.
     Derek gripped onto the man’s hands and used them as leverage to breath. “So this visit was about my occupation?”
     “A hobby, nothing more,” the man corrected. He slammed Derek into the wall, his hands still holding on. His face relaxed as he lowered the collar to the young man’s shirt. His flesh was marred with old scars and new bite marks. He looked back into the human’s eyes.
     “How is the life of a walking, talking blood-bag these days?”
     Derek smirked. “Very similar to the life of a walking, talking throw rug.”
     The man pressed hard, the weight threatening to crush bones. “Where are they?”
     “Who?” Derek choked out.
     “The vampire and the girl.”
     Derek tried to sound baffled at the question. “They left already?”
     The man let go. Derek dropped to the ground, slumped and coughing. The man then kneeled before him, looking at the scars once more.
     “Why do you enjoy pain?”
     “Never really found out why,” admitted Derek as he straightened himself up, sitting against the wall. “Diagnoses are for those who need to label everything.” He his eyes lifted to the man. “Do I look like a guy who cares about labels?”
     The man grabbed Derek’s throat, sneering again. “Where did you take them?”
     “A motel,” his gasped, “on the New York border. Where they went from there I don’t know.”
     “Tell me about the girl, Evonne.”
     A light finally switched on in Derek’s head. “You’re from Eden, aren’t you? So when did Alex start keeping pets?”
     The man released his hand. “I’ll take you to ask him yourself.”

Great, hairy nut-sack, Derek thought as he sat within the white walls of, what he believed to be, an interrogation room. This just keeps getting better and better. At least they gave me a change of clothes. He glanced down at the cheap white shirt and grey sweatpants. His wrists and ankles sported the finest jewelry SEVEN had to offer—standard shackles, the same kind used by the county jail.
     Derek’s eyes went over to the guard obediently standing by the wall.
     “Hey, man,” he said, “can I bum a cigarette.”
     The guard looked at him but didn’t reply.
     “I guess you’re right. I need to quit anyway.”
     The door opened as three men entered. Abruptly, the guard by the wall left the room. One of the men took a seat across Derek while the other two stood near the wall. Derek recalled the dark haired man from earlier. He couldn’t place the other one. But the man sitting before him …
     “I assume I need no introduction,” he said. There was a confidence within this man that went beyond bedrock and into the depths of Hell. Derek was going to love this.
     “Alexander Ingram,” he finally acknowledge. “A god among us mortals. A beacon of hope. Truly an untouchable force.” He began to gag. “Sorry. It’s hard for me to spout such bullshit.”
     Alex ignored the obvious insult as he introduced the other men in the room. “This here is Pax, and you already met Jonathan.”
     Derek took a real interest in these two men. “Ah, Thing 1 and Thing 2. Your reputations precede you all, as well.”
     “That’s another subject I wish to speak about,” said Alex. “How much has Gabriel told you about me?”
     “That you all worked together, and he helped you establish SEVEN.”
     “Wrong,” he corrected, keeping a calm exterior. “SEVEN’s incarnation you see today is my own design.”
     “But he was at your side from SEVEN’s beginning.”
     Alex raised an eyebrow. “So you know the truth about me.”
     Derek leaned back in his chair. “Only that you’re like the rash my uncle gets every now and then. It never goes away completely and we can’t figure out why.”
     A genuine look of amusement danced across Alex’s face before dropping back into a serious expression. “My daughter. Was she with him?”
     “Your pet already spilled the beans to me earlier. I already know what you know. But what really confuses me about all of this is that Mr. Big Bad Exterminator keeps a Big Bad Wolf on his pay roll.” He glanced at Jonathan.
     Pax, too, glanced at Jonathan. He could see the muscles in his jaw tighten.
     “Tell me about my daughter,” Alex continued.
     “What do you want to know?”
     “I’m hearing a dreadful rumor. I’ve been wanting to confirm or disprove it.”
     Derek chewed at the skin on his lower lip. He wasn’t sure on how to answer him. “Is it the ‘vampire’ rumor?” He watched Alex’s reaction, assuming it to be the correct question. Derek let out a mocking sigh. “Sorry to tell you. You seem like a nice person. Shit like this happens to you all the time, I hear.”
     Alex nodded at Jonathan. The hunter lifted Derek from his chair and forced him to stand. Alex left his chair to face the human.
     “I was informed that you like pain,” he said, lowering the collar of his shirt to see the old and new scars.
     Derek gestured to one mark on the base of his neck. “I’m especially proud of this one.” He leaned in to Alex and whispered, “I popped Evonne’s cherry.”
     Eyes widening, Alex threw his fist into Derek’s face. Jonathan held onto the human, keeping him from hitting the ground. Derek placed a hand to his sore jaw and spat out the blood filling his mouth. He stood straight to face Alex, his hand now touching his busted lip. He spit again. “That was just some harmless vampire humor,” he defended halfheartedly. “There’s no need to get all physical.”
     “Where did he take her?”
     “For this very reason, I asked him specifically not to tell me. So all you have left now is to take your anger out on me.”
     Alex’s lips tightened. “My anger isn’t for you.”
     “Don’t be expecting to release that anger anytime soon. Now that he knows you’re on his trail, he won’t be that easy to find this time around.”
     Looking him over once more, Alex gave his order, “Take him back to his room.”
     Finished with all of this, The Great Alexander left the room. Derek’s eyes glared at the man’s back as he disappeared into the hall.
     Pax sat on the edge of the table and motioned to Derek. “Please, have a seat.” He then looked at Jonathan. “Close the door.”
     The hunter hesitated before following the order.
     Pax looked at the bruised human a moment longer, and then finally spoke. “I admire the little operation you had going on there, I really do. Much better than how I started out. And probably Jon here, too. But apparently there are some things I still don’t know about him.” He glanced at Jonathan before continuing. “You, however, my dear, Derek, have the makings of a decent hunter for SEVEN. But you would have to hunt more than just werewolves. Tell me, why are you exclusive to wolves?”
     Derek’s eyes went from Jonathan to Pax. “They’re more challenging. But you already know that.”
     “Oh, and that,” said Pax, pointing at the old bite marks, “would be something you need to stop. Let me ask you a personal question this time. Why do that? Why degrade yourself to nothing more than a free meal?”
     He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
     “Try me.”
     Shifting in his seat, Derek tried to find the right explanation. “It’s not degradation. The act of offering oneself is empowerment. In that moment, this powerful and feared monster is worshipping you. You are their god. They will do anything to get what they want and never jeopardize that relationship.”
     Pax took in his words. “So, it’s a superiority complex and not a sadomasochist attraction.”
     “Depends on the human. But the basic idea remains; you are their only means of life, and that give us power over them.”
     “Unless they decide not to play your game,” he was quick to remind him.
     “Anything else you wish to ask me?”
     Pax crossed his arms. “How long have you known Gabriel?”
     Derek actually had to stop and think about this one. “Uh, about fifteen years, I think.”
     “How did you meet him?”
     “It’s not one of the proudest moments of my life. Let’s just leave it at that.”
     “So Gabriel was your intervention?”
     “No,” Derek corrected, recalling the images from that night. “He was planning to kill me.”
     “What stopped him?”
     He paused before answering. “As he fed from me, I was begging him to kill me.”
     Pax’s eyes narrowed. “And that alone stopped him?”
     Derek shrugged. “He has some unresolved issues, I guess.”
     Standing from the table, the hunter headed to the door. “We should get you back to your room.”
     Jonathan pulled Derek to his feet. “No more questions?” he asked, shuffling in his shackles.
     Pax honestly replied, “I can’t think of anything else to ask.” He opened the door.
     The two hunters led Derek down the labyrinth of halls and back to his simple room, its design similar to rooms of a mental hospital. With shackles removed and door locked, the hunters safely secured their captive inside.
     Pax draped the shackles around his neck as he walked down the hall. Jonathan stayed a few feet behind him. The tension was obvious, but the youngest of the two reveled in it.
     “What was all that talk back there,” said Pax, finally pouncing on the question that he mulled over.
     “Just some punk kid trying to get under our skin.”
     “Was it true?” Pax stopped walking to face him. “You never kept any secrets, so imagine my shock when my brain begins to entertain this ‘wolf’ idea.”
     Jonathan appeared annoyed at the word. “I’m not a wolf.”
     “Then what are you? Because with my thinking now, I’ve completely missed this neon elephant.”
     “There’s no elephant.”
     “Well, there is one now.” Pax crossed his arms, waiting for his answer.
     Jonathan studied his friend. There were some things meant to remain a secret, but this one was no longer one of those. “We all have things we wish to forget,” he said. “We all have pasts that we all try hard to shake.”
     “I already know about your fiancé.”
     “This isn’t about her.”
     Pax dropped his arms. “Tell me. I’m going to play ‘Sensitive Paxton’ here. So take a seat on my imaginary couch and spill.”
     There was a bit of apprehension within Jonathan as he began to speak. “I never knew my real father. The only time my mother knew him was off Highway 28 when he raped her. From the beginning you can see this lovely picture. Fast forward fourteen years later and the blinding headaches and nightmares began. After countless doctor visits and mountains of medications, the symptoms stopped. At the age of seventeen I began seeing this one girl from my high school. Several guys from my class took it upon themselves to keep us apart. And one night, their plan worked. We call them ‘peltless wolves,’ these unfortunate half-breeds who are trapped between human and werewolf. I am neither human nor wolf. Those fellow students that night saw this shift first hand. The rage can be blinding, and when it ends, you don’t forget what happened. But Alex has seen past this, and neither of us had any plans to tell anyone.”
     “What happened to the kids?”
     “I killed them. Including the girl. So, Pax, if it’s not too difficult for you, please keep your big mouth shut.”
     Pax blinked at the confession, ignoring the threat. “Whoa. Peltless, eh? So you still get the—” He made a fang gestures with his fingers. “And the—” He then made claw motions with his hands.
     Jonathan stared at him, one of his eyes almost twitching.
     His friend slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s not such a big deal. A teenage girl in the height of PMS is more frightening in my eyes. I just hate that you kept this secret from me for so long.”
     Crossing his arms, Jonathan was quick to point out, “Perhaps one day you’ll tell me your secret.”
     Pax smiled. “Perhaps.” He began walking down the hall once more, taking no part in any questions aimed at himself.