Back to the wolf's den
Viddarr greeted him at the first floor main bar just near the dance floor. Devon laughed as he realized Viddarr was probably aware of him from the moment he had walked in the door of The Wolf’s Den Tavern. He was startled by how Viddarr looked, it had been years since they had last seen each other and there was a remarkable difference in his appearance.
Viddarr’s complexity once enthralled him; Viddarr’s spirit sought for lycanthrope’s through his mind even when his mutilated body was technically dead. Devon was the first one who heard his call. Devon had tracked down Viddarr in hopes that he would help him with Aticus and his growing problem. With every full Moon Aticus’ infernal pack rose in numbers. He had high hopes Viddarr was just the edge he needed to defeat the pack, but when he first entered the club his heart sank. Ice and the pack’s scent were radiating all through the place, he had marked the territory as his. Viddarr looked shocked for an instant then returned to his prior composure.
He gauged him to be about 6′6" tall, a full three inches taller than when he first met him. His dark brown hair was longer now, draping over his shoulders, the sides shaved and he saw a tribal tattoo on each side of his head. Six studs were screwed onto each side of the shaved hairline. His bangs as long as the rest of his hair was pulled back and separated in a braid. His ears were pointed and high up on his head. And his eyes seemed to glow golden with the black lights, but they were a deep dark brown with a circle of black on the irises that made his eyes seem even darker.
Viddarr motioned with his hand for Devon to approach. His fingers were all an even length and the nails were long, pointed like daggers and black. His eyebrows hadn’t changed, only wilder but still had an almost triangle look to them giving his eyes a menacing and a matter of fact expression to his face.
Viddarr took a gulp of some vile concoction from a flask he carried in the black worn leather jacket he had on. He wore it loosely off his large chest and broad shoulders. Another tribal tattoo, black and silver nitrate ink mixture for permanence, was visible going down the length of his sculpted washboard abdomen.
“Good to see you, again.” Devon slid onto a bar stool beside the powerful animalistic figure, so out of place he seemed even amidst the mortal misfits that surrounded him. Viddarr extended the flask to Devon without a word his eyes still scanning the number of women that caught his attention.
“Well what is it?” Devon cautiously smelled the flask, a bitter medicinal smell and sharp alcohol vapor.
Viddarr smiled but didn’t say anything, just gestured again for Devon to drink from his flask.
He took the flask. One edge of his mouth curled up as he slowly glanced at Viddarr then gripped the railing in front of him with both hands. His hands too seemed an inch or two longer; Devon studied him intently, amazed and intrigued by his friend then turned the flask up to his mouth for a small drink.
The concoction almost made him gag as it went down, followed by a warm burning sensation going through his throat and settling in his gut, suddenly the mix coursed through every pore of his body, his head swam as if he were suddenly drunk. He could taste the powerful mixture of unknown stimulants, painkillers, herbs, and grain alcohol mixed together. His eyes dilated like headlights in the darkness they began to involuntarily glow. Enhancing his heat vision and improving smell even better than his preternatural senses. He could instantly detect each and every individual patron that moved, before he had consumed Viddarr’s mixture. The dance floor came alive with undulating vibrations moving with the beat of the music. The hair on the back of his neck began to tingle and grow. He knew he was going to involuntarily change form. It took all this might to stop this, his mind racing and in ecstasy. He could close his eyes and still “see” with his now heightened senses. His muscles and tendons tightened until they were about to burst. He began to hear howling, surprising him because the howling he heard was coming from within his throat. The room seemed to shift with colors, emanating from the crowd. Devon was beside himself. He felt himself getting even stronger and more aware of every inch of himself. He could feel every pore and every hair follicle, a sensation he only recognized during the change when his body was alive with the metamorphosis. Time stood still as he tried to control the awakened beast until Viddarr placed his hands on Devon’s shoulder bringing him back down to earth.
He smelt the strong musk of Stefan’s killer, Aticus, about the tavern. A faint odor hung in the air all around The Wolf’s Den. Special shots passed around the dance floor. The formula little different than he remembered minus the parasite amoebas, but he knew what it was, a potion long forgotten except by a select few. His stomach tightened in a knot, from the smell he knew Viddarr swore his allegiance to the newfangled pack Aticus was trying to create. There would be no information forthcoming about Aticus.
“So you’re in league with Aticus?!” Devon tried to ask, but Viddarr motioned him to be silent and waved out to the crowd.
“I’ll tell you later. Just enjoy!” Viddarr laughed a deep throated laugh; it sounded more like an order then a request as he tossed his jacket onto the back of the chair and took a deep breath extending his large chest.
His chest had a light patch of reddish brown hair that led down to the tribal tattoo on his abdomen, his arms had short light hair covering them as well but not as noticeable from the tattoos and brands put on them. Viddarr offered Devon another drink of the mixture then rested his arms on the rail.
Devon politely accepted another drink and looked around at the crowded tavern while Viddarr tended to the affairs of the bar. Devon turned back to the crowd, indeed his already heightened senses seemed to expand until coming together sight, sound, and smells mingled and registered as one automatically. Even the air around him felt alive with vibrations and he could feel the movement of the crowd at a distance. It seemed he could see in all directions at once and he couldn’t help from having an orgasm, this he thought as the mixture that Viddarr made, the lycanthrope’s drug of choice fuel for the parasites, ran through his veins as his eyes rolled back into his head.
“You are so drastically different from our last encounter...” Devon finally managed, “so tell me why it is you are siding with that crazy monster and murderer?”
“I assume you are referring to Aticus?” Viddarr grumbled.
Devon nodded yes.
“Simple, his plan is so grand... Aticus’ efforts are so passionate and clear...” Viddarr paused for a drink from his flask, “The human civilization disgusts me. It’s time for a change.”
“See, I’m Vargr,” Viddarr paused for a second as he waited for the meaning of this one word to sink in to Devon’s mind. “I am the last of the Úlfhéðnar, the last of the Wolf clan.”
Viddarr turned his back to Devon interested in two women coming towards him dancing seductively.
“But, Viddarr, then by nature you are an outdweller. I can’t believe you resigned yourself to join a pack!” Devon argued.
Devon knew he was treading on unsteady ground. Viddarr was known for going berserk without any provocation, but he couldn’t help himself.
“No matter who you’re around you’re outside of them, remember that you are Vargr!” Devon said.
However, Devon’s pleas fell on deaf ears when Viddarr caught the faint scent of honeysuckle, sunflowers and blueberries combined with a woman’s natural scent. He turned to see Desiree, Roxy, and Tequila dancing with each other while A.J. and Garrett were upstairs at the auxiliary bar watching the women.
Tommy sat on the stool of the second floor table in the corner sulking, already half drunk. Sarah giving him the cold shoulder every time he walked into the room combined with Sarah’s refusal to sell the Raccourci Island property had him at his breaking point.