13. A Distant Relative

THIRTEEN

a distant relative

We spend the better part of the afternoon searching the "internets," as Francis calls it, for any information on Kragen. Just as I suspected, we find nothing new.

"I've spent hours, months, hell…years searching for information on him and to find a way to bring him down. I've found nothing. I'm not sure what you all expect to find in one afternoon." I sit back, running my hands through my already messy hair.

"A loophole? A mistake? Something that tells us where to find him?" Luna says next to me.

"He doesn't make mistakes. Besides, I have no idea how old he is. No matter the case, I doubt he's going to be using the World Wide Web to store secret information. The man captained a pirate ship, for God's sake."

"Were you on the ship the entire time you were with him?" Thorne asks .

"Most of the time, yes. There were several times throughout the years that he would take me to an island somewhere. I was blindfolded and covered in silver when transported." My words bring sadness to Thorne's eyes, and I instantly regret telling him so much.

"That's it," Francis says. "That's the key to stopping him. Find that island, and you'll find him."

"Unless Kragen has experienced a radical change of heart, he's not on the island. He's out, searching for me."

"You said he captained a pirate ship?" Francis asks, moving across the room.

"Aye," Thorne answers. "I spent years looking for the ship with no luck."

She pulls a large book from the shelf, bringing it to our small group. "I acquired this last year. It's the manifest load from Blackbeard's ship after they captured him."

"Blackbeard, Blackbeard?" Luna asks. "How did you get your hands on that?"

"A woman never tells her secrets." Francis smiles. "You know Blackbeard sailed around these waters at one time." She opens the book toward the back, flipping through several pages before settling on one in particular. "Here." She points. "Read this." She hands the book to her ancestor.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to see," he confesses .

"Here." She points again. "Mixed in with all the items he stole, it lists a stowaway."

"That's not unusual during that time," he argues.

Francis takes the book, turning to another page. "This lists a man who was found bound with silver and blindfolded in the bows of the ship." She turns another page, reading the description aloud.

"The man was wearing only a pair of trousers despite the weather being brisk. His skin was as white as death and his eyes as dark as night. When the chains were removed, he thanked us in an unfamiliar accent before killing three men and escaping within seconds. Each man was drained of blood."

"He was a vampire," I say out loud.

"Aye, there's no other explanation."

"The description sounds like a very strong vampire," Luna adds. "Why would he be captive on Blackbeard's ship?"

Francis moves quickly to the bookshelf, pulling out a much smaller book, resembling Thorne's journal I found in his room. She opens it, searching for something specific. "This is a copy of Blackbeard's journal."

"Where did you find that?" Luna asks.

"Walmart. They sell copies for the tourists." She hands the copy to me. "During July of 1717, Blackbeard spent quite a bit of time around the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The journal doesn't list what he was doing while there, but maybe that's where he met up with Kragen and acquired the vampire."

"Maybe that's where he took you," Luna adds.

"Maybe," I whisper. "Why would Blackbeard have one of Kragen's men?"

I shrug. "Payment? A partnership? Anything's possible with Kragen. I don't believe there is a limit to what he would do to gain wealth."

"What do we do now?" I ask the crowd standing around me.

"We gather an army and go kick some ass." Luna raises her hands high in the air.

"Slow down, William Wallace. This journal was written three hundred years ago. Kragen's not dumb enough to still be hiding in the same location," Thorne adds.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Francis asks. "If no one has found him before now, why would he move? I wouldn't."

"Blackbeard found him."

"And he's dead," she adds.

"We can't do this alone," I answer finally.

"We don't have to." Luna pulls her phone from her pocket. "Micah texted a few minutes ago. His Alpha agreed to meet us tonight."

"How'd he get your number?" Francis asks.

Luna winks without answering. "He's asked us to meet in a bar on Broad Street at seven o'clock."

"That's in just a few hours," Francis says. "What does one wear to a meeting with the lycan Alpha?"

"Francis, I think it's safer for you to stay here. None of us know what to expect when we get there," Thorne says.

"No offense, but hell no. I've lived seventy-four years being careful. This is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me. I'm going."

I smile at her words. "I'll keep her safe," I reassure her grandfather.

We spend the next hour researching possible locations for Kragen to be hiding in the Outer Banks. We've narrowed it down to four different locations when Francis enters the room wearing a pair of blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a plaid shirt.

"Does this work?" she asks, doing a full turn in the middle of the sitting room.

Thorne whistles, bringing pink to her cheeks. "Looking good, Francis."

She smiles at his words. "Thanks, Grandpa."

"It's time to go," Luna announces. "We don't need to be late. It's a sign of disrespect in the lycan world."

"We can be there in ten minutes," Francis says. "It's an easy walk from here. I've been there many times. However, I never realized there were lycan there. Now it's much more interesting."

Right on time, the four of us approach the bar. To the unsuspecting eye, it's a normal bar. To the lycan of Charleston, it's the home of their Alpha. "Ready?" I ask the group.

Luna opens the door, and we enter a nearly empty room. "Where is everyone?" Francis asks.

"It's early for the bar scene," Luna answers.

Micah appears out of nowhere. "This way." He turns, and we follow him to a door in the back of the room.

The man behind the desk is larger than anyone I've met before. He stands, towering over the rest of us. "Dad, these are the ones I told you about." Dad?

Luna bows her head toward the Alpha. "Luna Jamison. My Alpha, Christopher St. James, spoke highly of you and your pack."

"Christopher is a good man," the Alpha answers. He looks at the rest of us. "I'm Connor McFadden, and this is my son Micah, whom you've already met." He motions to several chairs in front of his desk. "Please." Thorne and I take the lead and sit down. "Tell me, what do two vampires, a lone lycanthrope, and a human need from my pack?"

"I feel like there's a punch line there somewhere," Francis says with a laugh. The Alpha doesn't respond.

"I was taken over three hundred years ago and turned into a vampire against my will. Ever since I escaped, my maker has tracked me relentlessly," I answer.

Conner sits back in his chair. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but what does that have to do with me or my pack?"

"Because he will come looking for me. He will not stop until he finds me, and when he does, he will wreak havoc on Charleston."

The Alpha stares at me, without answering. "This seems like a situation that could be handled by other vampires. Why involve lycan?" Micah asks.

"Because I don't have anyone else," I answer truthfully. "I was held against my will for over a hundred years. I was abused and tortured in every way possible. I've been on the run from him for over two hundred years, and I don't want to live that life any longer."

"What are you asking from us?" Connor asks.

"Manpower," Luna answers. "There are four of us. I don't know how large your pack is, but from your size and power, I imagine there are plenty who would be willing to help."

"My pack is large, but there are not many who will be willing to help a vampire. I can't force them to come to her aid, simply because she doesn't know anyone else."

I close my eyes, willing tears not to fall. "I understand." I stand from the chair.

"No, hold up," Francis says, moving toward the large man. "I've lived in this city my entire life. Hell, I was born in the dining room of the same house I live in today." She pats Thorne on the back. "Imagine my surprise when I discovered that this handsome young man is not only a vampire, but he's my grandfather several times removed. The city I grew up in was built on the willingness to help others. You have an opportunity to bring your two groups together. An opportunity to help someone when they truly need it. Vampire or no vampire, she needs your help." She looks around the room. "Hell, what else do you have to do? Entertain drunk tourists?"

"What's your name?" Connor asks.

"Francis Hawthorne. This is my great-great-great-grandfather, Captain Hawthorne Rex."

"I appreciate your words, Ms. Hawthorne, but I cannot risk the lives of innocent lycan for an issue that isn't our concern."

"Dammit," Francis says, moving away from the desk. I follow her to the door when an old black-and-white photograph catches my eye.

"May I?" I ask, pointing at the picture.

"Of course," Connor answers.

Picking up the photo, I run my fingers over the face of the young woman staring back at me. Her eyes peer into my soul, reminding me of someone I knew long ago. "Who is this woman?"

"My grandmother several generations back. Her husband drew that picture right after they were married."

"She's beautiful." I continue running my hands over the picture. The wind is knocked out of me the moment I realize why she looks familiar. The large eyes and round face are identical to my younger sister Bonnie.

"Elsie? Are you okay?" Thorne moves to my side.

"Was her name Bonnie? Bonnie Abernathy?"

Connor stands, moving closer. "How did you know that?"

Pulling the picture to my chest, I can't control the tears that flow. "My name is Elsbeth Abernathy. Bonnie is…was my younger sister."

"Elsbeth?" Connor repeats my name. "You're Elsbeth Abernathy?"

"Aye," I whisper. "My sister wasn't a lycanthrope," I state the obvious.

"No. My grandfather fell in love with a human. He was the alpha and could love anyone he wanted."

I wipe a stray tear. "Bonnie married a lycanthrope?"

"She did," he answers.

"Was she…was she happy?"

"Very," Connor answers. "Our family history is full of stories of her life and the things she did for both the human and lycan culture of the city." My mind flashes to the tiny girl who insisted I carry her to the ship and always stayed by my side.

"She died well into her nineties," Connor continues. "Together, they had six healthy and happy children. Your sister was the perfect mate."

"Sweet Bonnie," I whisper, hugging the picture closer.

"Stories of your disappearance were passed down through generations." Connor looks down with his words. "I'm sorry for what happened to you."

"You have a chance to help her, to help us," Thorne adds. "I was the captain of the ship that brought Bonnie and Elsie to Charleston. The Bonnie I knew was full of spunk and would've stopped at nothing to help her sister. She would've done anything she could to help Elsbeth escape."

Connor sighs, sitting back at his desk. "I agree." He closes his eyes. "How can we help you?"

A collective sigh resonates through the small room. "We have reason to believe that Kragen is still keeping his home base in the Outer Banks of North Carolina."

"That's not possible," Connor argues. "Every inch of those islands has been explored, most of it is uninhabitable. If there were a vampire pirate and a horde of vampires living there, someone would know."

"Maybe they do?" Francis says. "Until earlier today, I thought my belief in vampires and werewolves were the silly imaginings of an old lady." She motions around the room. "None of you hide in caves or dark rooms. You live in plain sight. What if they do, too?"

"Are you suggesting we go to North Carolina and search for them?" Connor asks.

"We won't have to look for them. Kragen will be here, looking for me." I set the picture down, wiping a tear from my wet face.

"I'll worry about Charleston. You two," he points at Thorne and me, "should go to North Carolina. "

"For what reason?" Luna interjects.

"If your theory is right, Kragen will not be there anyway. If he's been there for three hundred years or more, he will have ties to the community. Find a way to hit him where it hurts." He motions toward his son. "Take Micah with you. While you're gone, we'll prepare for his arrival here."