The Dragon's Blood (Part 113)
In which proceedings are concluded...
113
3 days Later
Lorelei Price stood among hundreds of others at Zeus Machado's funeral days later. There were quite literally hundreds in attendance. Dozens upon dozens of officers among them, crisp and alive in their dress blues as the solemn sounds of Amazing Grace played over the throng. The Honor guard stood at attendance behind them, accomplishing their grim duty with the characteristic excellence of the New York City Police Department.
Zeus' family, here from the Dominican Republic, their expressions detached and weary stood around her. They were lycanthropes as well of course, and this was no ceremony for them. They were here for show only, to keep up the pretense.
It wasn't Zeus' body in the casket either. In fact there was no body in that carton of wood. His true body, that of the beautiful black wolf she'd brought up out of the darkness had been given over to them already.
What they'd done with it, they'd not told her. They'd thanked her though, thanked her and cried with her if only for the few hours they'd been with her. Her special place in that noble creature's heart had been made known very well to his family by their son.
No accusations had been made, none for the horrible way she'd treated this great individual who'd done nothing but love her over the last few years or for the way in which he'd perished.
“Just tell me how he died, child,” his mother had asked her, her eerily young face unreadable. “Tell me if he died well.”
And she told them how he'd perished, only leaving out any mention of Stefan Blackmoon. A bogeyman was the last thing they needed in their lives right now, especially one that had done nothing but save lives that night.
“I've never harmed a Lycanthrope clan that hadn't first waged war on the world around them, Lorelei,” he'd told her. “They will not understand though. I've become the monster to the monsters. I am their Darkness, their terror and I wish to remain that way, at least for now.”
When it was all over, she was left alone with her thoughts. The others, the officers, were already heading to a repast held in Zeus' honor. She wouldn't be attending. She'd made her peace with him already and with Sword itself.
She'd put in for a leave of absence two days before and while she was on it she'd have much to consider, much to decide.
“Tesla's people, these Amaranth,” Blackmoon had said. “We'll be hearing from them soon. In what capacity I can only theorize. If they are anything like others similar to them I've encountered throughout my travels, there will be a reckoning and it will be swift and violent. We must be prepared.”
Through the trees at the end of the cemetery, the ones that led into the surrounding wood, she saw them. Their great muscular bodies fleeing into the wilderness, a pack of them, wolves great and noble.
They halted, the entire pack stopping in unison, facing her. The one who led them, his mother she was certain, nodded her way, her fine black fur streaked with silver.
And she felt no fear, only wonder and love. She nodded back, managing a smile, sad and minuscule, but filled with what she felt.
They turned and as one vanished into the forest, perhaps going to their own repast in the great wilds of North America.
She turned away as well, wishing mighty Zeus farewell. She'd her own gathering to attend to, one she'd only done so before in a dream.
And above her, just as it had little Elyoner White all those centuries ago, a great black falcon shadowed her every step.
End part 112
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