41. Raw

H arlow eyed the two-floor wood cabin, and drove past it as instructed. The barn was a traditional bright red structure and sat a bit behind the main house. In front of the closed doors stood a man he believed was named Zane. The heavily muscled, freckled, red-headed wolf looked grim, no hint of the smile he was used to seeing on the man's face most of the time they'd interacted in the past.

He rolled his eyes when Foxx whispered, "Are we…sure they aren't plotting to kill us?"

The vampire had spoken so softly, Harlow had almost not heard him. But he was sure that was so the wolf wouldn't hear. Though…that did push him to make a mental note to soundproof his Jeep.

Maybe he'd just get a new Jeep and pay for a shit ton of upgrades. He did have dents now…fucking bigoted bastards.

"Come on," Harlow grunted, getting out.

They approached Zane, who just nodded and opened the door.

Walking in, the wolf closed the door behind them. As he caught sight of Santiago, his brow rose. Well, the brow raising part was less because of the wolf standing there looking grim, with his arms crossed, hands clenched into fist, and more about the table with an obvious covered body on it.

"Well, that is a problem, but not necessarily…" Foxx trailed off, and then took a deep breath in. "He smells off…"

Harlow didn't bother trying to smell whatever Foxx was…as he wouldn't have known what was off anyway. His gaze flicked away from the body to Santiago, when the man didn't respond to Foxx's comment, and found the werewolf's startled dark brown gaze locked on him.

"Ah…you can tell," Harlow stated.

Foxx glanced over at him. "Tell wh—ah!" The vampire looked to Santiago. "Yes, well… Tada, Harlow isn't a vampire." The vampire waved at him.

Santiago cleared his throat. "I can…see that…"

Harlow tilted his head on a frown. Sniffing, he sampled his own scent… It smelled pretty vampire-like to him…and his heartbeat matched Foxx's perfectly. Which was really how he figured out how to perfectly mimic it…by matching Foxx.

"How can you tell?"

"Your smell is…off."

"Good…to know."

So something in his scent was still off, at least to werewolves… Or maybe it was just Santiago's age. "Zane didn't seem to notice," Harlow said slowly.

"Zane is half a millennia younger than I."

He tried to breathe in Santiago's scent. It was very woodsy, and sort of smelled like…he wanted to say the wind, but did the wind even have a smell? There was something wild about the smell for sure. That wildness, that wind, or whatever it was, he realized it was coming from the body as well. On top of the smell of death, and something extremely bitter and metallic that made his nose twitch, as if he had to sneeze. "They were a werewolf too, right?"

Santiago took a deep breath and pulled the sheet off the body. "He was…"

The person on the folding table had deep naturally tanned skin and short, messy black hair. And while tall, and a werewolf—which made it hard to be sure—Harlow had a feeling the man on the table was actually a kid, probably in his twenties. He also looked…related to Santiago. Oddly, there was what appeared to be brown bile, or some sort of foam, crusted around his mouth.

"I could tell something was off before you removed the sheet…" Foxx said with a frown. "But why don't you tell us what happened first, before I make any guesses?"

The wolf had grown grimmer once the sheet had been removed… However…now that Santiago looked down at the man…if Harlow wasn't wrong…he saw pain in his eyes.

"This was my…" Santiago swallowed hard, and corrected himself. "This is my nephew. I took him in…after his parents were lost to us." The man took another deep breath. "He went out with friends yesterday evening. He was normal when he left." Santiago's jaw clenched and unclenched. "But when he returned, he seemed…agitated. An hour went by…and there was this brief calm…before he started complaining that he felt sick… Which…isn't an easy feat for a werewolf. And then…he just…lost it. Foaming at the mouth, rabid. The foam was… Well…you can see it's…an odd brownish color."

Santiago's eyes were glassy, and the man eyed his nephew silently for a moment before continuing. "I managed to restrain him. We all have places to restrain those who lose control. He kept trying to break free… And beyond belief, he did a few times, but we got him back before any damage was done. We thought maybe this was some sort of wolfsbane… Maybe a new harmful mutated strand that we just hadn't heard of yet. So…the pack doctor tried the normal detox methods…but…" the wolf trailed off, and just kept standing there, staring down at him silently.

"He died?" Foxx said softly as he reached out and gripped Santiago's forearm.

"Yes." Santiago's voice cracked, a single tear sliding down his cheek. "By the eighth hour, he transformed back, screaming that it hurt…begging." The man swallowed hard, looking as if more tears were about to fall. "I couldn't… I couldn't…help him—" The wolf gasped, biting his fist as he spun around. Santiago's shoulders started to shake.

They, on the other hand, both stood there silently, waiting for the werewolf to compose himself. Harlow…felt awkward as all fuck. Like he was seeing something he shouldn't. He doubted the man broke down often, let alone in front of people who weren't even part of his pack. The most troubling part was…what he'd just described to them was…while slightly different, the timeline shorter…it was too similar to what happened to the infected vampires for it to be a coincidence.

A few minutes passed before the werewolf turned back around, his eyes red, but no tears in sight. "I apologize for that," Santiago rasped hoarsely.

"Nothing to apologize for," Foxx quickly assured the man. Which, thank fuck, as Harlow had no fucking clue how to respond.

The wolf took a deep breath in and out. "I don't think whatever this is…is wolfsbane. I think whatever this is…it's related to that group, Humanity's Last Stand. I think…this was a test. That my nephew was used as a test subject," the man growled angrily.

Fucking Maverick…

Harlow grimaced. "Was anyone else affected? Anyone else with him?"

Santiago shook his head. "No, but I reached out to other packs. There were a few who suffered a similar fate, many months back, some a few years even. So, they have obviously been testing this for a while. Our pack doctor doesn't have the equipment to even begin to…" The man rubbed at his eyes and sighed. "The other packs didn't think to have the bodies autopsied… But then…they didn't wait it out… They just put them down."

Months…years…back? Had…Santiago been…targeted? Could the werewolf be in Maverick's sight because of his connection to him?

Foxx glanced over with a frown when Harlow went quiet. The dhampir was frowning, but didn't look any closer to saying anything. Guess it was up to him.

"You…called the right people. We happened to be one of the hunter groups who helped take down the infected vampires in Iowa. Well, infected, as in, poisoned."

"I'm not sure if what you could learn from…my nephew will help vampires…but…it would be at least…something…" Santiago grimaced. "Is it true that all the bodies were lost?"

"The…bodies were lost, yes… But…" Foxx hesitated. When he eyed Harlow again, and saw that the man didn't look interested, or like he was even paying attention enough to stop him, he blurted, "We may have secretly siphoned blood from the last victim without anyone noticing, and it just may currently be with a doctor with the capability and knowledge to research it."

The man let out a soft, watery laugh. "Then there is hope to stop what they are planning, at least for your kind." Santiago gestured towards his nephew. "This is my hope for stopping what they are planning for mine. Please…take Diago's body and find out what they did to my child."

"This may be my fault," Harlow said grimly.

"What?!" Santiago rasped harshly.

Foxx turned to Harlow, with so many questions in his mind. "Harlow, what are you saying?"

"The man in charge of that group hates me."

"You…you know who it is…?"

"We do. He is an old school hunter, one who has always hated everyone different. Maverick…his name is Maverick, and he blew up my house a few months back… I survived. The hatred, the feeling is mutual." Harlow sighed. "You helped me find Foxx. It's only fair that I tell you the truth. And the truth is, it's likely you were targeted because of that very action."

Santiago stood there staring, unmoving. The wolf's hands clenched so tight, that his claws must have punctured his skin, as blood started dripping from his fists. Taking deep breath after deep breath, the man's hands slowly relaxed. "The help we provided was minimal. As for your truth, even if it's so…it doesn't change the who. This Maverick, his group, his people, are the ones responsible for my nephew's death. No one else. My truth is that if we had no connection…while, maybe I would not currently feel as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest…that pain…would it not come later…and in greater capacity when more died with no hope of help ever coming? I can't live with what could have happened, only with what has happened. So, Harlow Blackmore, Foxx Honeywell…take my hope and make it soar. Figure out what they did, find out if it can be stopped. Make this pain I'm feeling worth it."

Foxx's heart, which had already been aching for the man, broke a bit. The pain he heard in his voice was just so raw.

"We will do all that we can," Foxx promised.

"It's a promise," Harlow rumbled.

Santiago took a deep breath. "Take him and go… Please…keep me updated."

"We will."

The man nodded, staring for a moment more at his nephew, before turning his back to them, repeating, "Please, take him and go."

Foxx nudged Harlow. The dhampir moved in and carefully picked up the deceased werewolf.

"We will call as soon as we know more. To meet up that is… This isn't something that can be spoken about over the phone," Harlow noted. "I'd suggest telling your pack to stay home as much as they can. Because whatever they are doing, it seems to happen when out in public."

"I'll…move everyone who agrees to a more secure location. I have properties, ones not even the government knows about," Santiago said without turning back around.

Then again, maybe he couldn't bear to watch them leave with, as he had called him...his child.

"That would…probably be for the best," Foxx replied slowly as he backed up. "We'll be in touch."

With that they left.

The red-headed wolf nodded at them grimly as they passed, standing just as stiff as his Alpha had been when they left. The man seemed to refuse to look towards the body.

Moving to the boot, Foxx quickly opened it and jumped in. Folding down the seat, he helped Harlow carefully place the dead young wolf into a body bag, so carefully that it was as if they were laying out someone who was still alive. Once the body was secured, they got in and drove off.