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2019-05-05
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2020-07-15
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7/?
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Shadow, the Fleet-Footed

Chapter 7: The Rookie

Summary:

Will Jack Morton live or die? All will be decided with beer pong...again.

Chapter Text

“Oh,” Layton groaned. She had a pounding headache and the bright rays streaming in through the parted curtains only made it worse. She rolled onto her side and noticed that someone had gifted her a full glass of water and a pair of aspirin tablets. After chasing down the meds, she wiped her lips and stumbled out of bed.

“Hey!” Randall strolled into the room. “You look a little….”

“I know,” she grumbled, rummaging through her dresser. For convenience sake, the Knights had their own rooms and extra clothes at the Den. It was mostly for weekends and patrol nights for the brunette. She wasn’t a fan of stashing her clothes in the woods anymore before wolfing out. The others vaguely remembered it being something about Halloween night and stolen underwear.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be bringing Jack back here on request of ol’ Hamburger and Lil,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “They still really want to kill him, but I think I can work something out.”

“Against those two?” She raised a brow and watched as Randall shrugged his shoulders.

“Just be ready in an hour, alright?” He grabbed the jacket hanging on the back of his chair before rushing out. Layton shook her head and shut the bedroom door after him. She chucked on a fresh pair of jeans and a loose top, simple and comfortable. That’s what she needed right now. Between her hangover and the possible soon-to-be death of Jack Morton, everything else just needed to take the backseat and chill. That included her multiple assignments due in the next couple of days. She groaned at the thought. Despite being amazingly powerful supernatural creatures, three of them were still college students.

Layton spent the better part of the following hour searching for the best breakfast sandwich Belgrave had to offer. Her quest landed her at a local diner, Sally Shine’s. It was a small but cozy establishment that she had often heard advertising over the radio station. Their dated décor and creased booth seats only added to the ambiance as much as the winning smile of the owner herself did. Sally was behind the counter taking orders. Her graying hair was pulled up into a messy top bun and her pen was currently resting between her lips. Their eyes met briefly.

“I’ll be with ya in a sec, darl’!” She gave her a quick nod before returning her attention to her current customer. Layton used this time to flip through their clustered menu. Photos of overexposed items were littered throughout the booklet. Her gaze shifted when a particularly rowdy group entered through the front. One of the guys had his arm wrapped around a girl who was solely focused on her phone. She smacked her gum obnoxiously while tapping a text out with her claws for fingernails. Her man winked at her as they passed, and Layton felt a chill go down her spine. Sleazy was the specific way she would describe him.

“So, what can I do for ya?” Sally greeted her from her peripheral.

“Just the Classic, please,” Layton returned the pleasantries before sliding the closed menu towards the owner.

“Comin’ right up! Don’t go anywhere,” Sally grabbed the booklet and tucked it under her arm before leaving. The brunette was left to twiddle her thumbs as she waited for her meal. She could feel his stare from across the diner. It bothered her to some extent. She didn't know who he was and she sure as hell didn’t what he wanted. Was he even a student here? Faculty? He didn't seem like either. Determined to avoid all eye contact, she, instead, directed her attention outside. Her window view comprised of mostly parking lot, but she still enjoyed watching the occasional raven swoop down for discarded fries. It was cute how their head bobbed with each step and she had always admired their wings. What would it be like to know that you could just fly at a moment’s notice and leave all your problems behind? Leave the world behind, even, for just a few seconds to feel the wind brush against you. A steaming breakfast sandwich drew her out of her thoughts. She thanked the waitress before wolfing the food down. She wouldn’t have rushed if she wasn’t being watched. After she paid her bills at the counter, she donned her jacket and exited the diner. The gravel of the parking lot crunched noisily under her sneakers, so it wasn’t hard to notice when someone else seemed to be keeping pace behind her. The hair on her neck rose gradually as she slowed to a stop.

“Don’t you have friends to go back to?” She spoke just loudly enough for whoever it was to hear her. She wasn’t scared but Layton had never been fond of confrontation. Not in her human form anyways.

“Evidently, I’m at the bathroom at the moment,” a low voice returned from behind her. “I just wanted to know what a pretty thing like yourself was doing back there alone.”

“Eating,” she slowly turned. “It is a diner, you know?” He stood there with a worn leather jacket and beach blonde hair, dyed obviously. A conceited smile sat on his face and his hands were in his pocket. He didn’t answer immediately.

“What’s your name?”

“None of your business,” she frowned when he didn’t falter at her obvious disinterest. “I’m busy and you’re wasting my time.” Layton still had to make it back to the Den before Randall arrived with Jack in tow.

“I just wanted your number, is that so bad?” He took a stride forward.

“For when you leave your current girl?”

“Exactly, you get it. I have to keep my options open,” his smirk just widened.

“Not interested, bye,” Layton shrugged before turning on her heels.

“You can’t just walk away from me,” his sickly charming voice dropped into a low growl.

“Watch me!” She called over her shoulder. She heard him rush towards her before she felt a rough hand grab her shoulder.

“Listen you little-,” his voice was hushed in her ears.

“Please refrain from touching me ever again,” Layton sighed when she felt his grip tighten.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“Evidently,” she rolled her eyes, “You don’t know who you’re messing with. And I suggest you take your hand off my shoulder. I wouldn’t want to do anything…reckless in broad daylight,” she turned her head to give him a glare, as menacingly as she could. She was attempting to channel Lilith and was really hoping that would be enough to curb his enthusiasm.

“What can a girl like you do?” He laughed before getting gut-punched. His sneakers dug into the ground to anchor him, but he still slid a couple of feet. Layton’s eyes glowed an icy blue before turning to walk away. “What the fuck?! You’re going to regret this! Come back here,” the guy sputtered, trying to move towards her. She didn’t pay him any mind. His grunts began to fade behind her when she overheard him call over to someone. Layton turned to see the people from his group begin to give chase. They did not look pleased. The girl from earlier was tending to the wounded male. The Knight heaved a sigh before breaking into a sprint. She didn’t have time for this, and she didn’t want any further public altercations. For once, broad daylight was her enemy. They couldn’t just magic away everyone’s memories of some college girl going to town on a group of guys in front of a diner. Everyone would have questions, and everyone had phones. Layton wasn’t looking to go viral.

She eventually lost them on the run back to the Den. Physical activities were easy if you were bound to a werewolf hide. Layton unlocked the front door and was greeted with an always dapper Hamish by the bar and Lilith resting on the couch.

“You went out for a run?” Hamish glanced up from the cocktail he was making.

“Something like that,” she exhaled. There was a light sheen of sweat covering her skin and her hair was beginning to cling to her neck. “Randall?”

“He’s on his way,” Lilith grumbled as moved to get up from her spot. “We can finally kill the guy,” she stretched her limbs before heading to the bathroom. The older Knight was currently washing off her arms and face at the sink. A flash of confusion crossed her face when she saw Lilith walk in. “What? This is my hiding spot. We’re planning an ambush,” Lilith shrugged. Layton dried herself off with the hand towel and was then promptly kicked out by the moody student.

“I didn’t know we were setting up an ambush,” She looked towards Hamish as he finished up his drink. It was a lovely pale lime green and was carefully decorated with a sprig of mint.

“It was Lilith’s “idea baby” as she’s been calling it. He’ll be here in a couple minutes,” he handed her the cocktail. She took a small sip and beamed.

“It’s good.”

“Thank you,” he smiled before patting her arm. “Go find somewhere to hide and finish that off. Don’t want it to go to waste,” he dipped into the living room, out of sight. Layton looked around and decided to head up the stairs. She assumed they were trying to cover different areas of the house in the likely chance that he didn’t agree with dying. The sound of the front door creaking open piqued her interest. Here we go.

“You’re sure you can get Hamish, Layton, and Lilith on board?” Jack’s voice drifted up the stairs.

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely, no problem,” Randall glanced around for the other Knight’s. He called their names before Hamish made himself known.

“Great job, Randall,” Hamish approached slowly.

“I thought for sure you were going to help him run,” Lilith popped out of the bathroom with a smug smirk on her face. Layton quietly made her way down the steps, waiting until realization dawned on Jack. He whipped around to glare at Randall.

“You double-crossing bastard!”

“Everyone calm down. No one’s killing anyone,” Randall held his arms out towards the circling wolves.

“We agreed. Best out of three. You lost, he dies,” Lilith growled.

“Jack landed his first kill,” Randall ignored her. “Big bad magic.” Layton paused at the foot of the stairs and leaned against the railing.

“That would change things,” Layton acknowledged.

“Bullshit,” Lilith scowled.

“Jack tell them,” Randall raised a brow at the freshman. “Tell them how you heard the ringing and transformed in Silverback and took down your professor who was weaponized by bad magic,” Randall lead. It seemed like more of a Randall story than the real story.

“That…that happened,” Jack nodded, following.

“That’s straight-up champion shit,” Randall concluded. Layton tried not to smile only because the two other Knights were brimming with distrust and tension. She didn’t know if it was a lie or more of an embellished truth, but she found it humorous, nonetheless. “And pretty impressive, considering he hasn’t even been trained.” Hamish continued to assess him quietly while Lilith drilled the situation.

“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s been doing bad magic,” she countered. Her inky black eyes glared holes into the side of Jack Morton’s face.

“That was a mistake,” Jack quickly corrected.

“And he’s very sorry,” Randall finished for him.

“You’re a mistake,” Lilith stepped forward.

“Hamish?” Layton bristled at Lilith’s movement. The kill changed his situation so she didn't want anyone to act hastily.

“We need to discuss this alone,” he immediately interjected sensing her nerves. Lilith backed off. 

“What are we gonna do about dick leak here? We can’t just let him go,” she grunted.

“She’s right,” Hamish looked around to the others for ideas. Their eyes met briefly but long enough for Hamish to catch Layton motioning towards their basement. Lilith must have caught on because, in one swift motion, the three of them wrestled Jack down the stairs.

“Don’t do anything weird,” Lilith shoved him towards their room of artifacts and hide lockers.

“Like locking somebody in your basement while you debate whether or not to kill them?” Jack snapped. Hamish gave him one last shove before hovering in the doorway.

“Yeah, like that,” he smirked.

“We’ll make it quick,” Layton waved before trailing after the two. Randall lingered behind momentarily to chat with their new hostage. The four of them eventually decided to address the situation in the living room. Randall sprawled out on the couch next to Lilith while Hamish and Layton settled themselves on the opposite one. “So, if he stopped bad magic,” Layton started slowly. Lilith quickly turned to her and glared.

“If. A strong if,” she sneered before picking at her fingernails.

“Right, then, in our books, he’s done right by the Knights,” Layton continued.

“Exactly, he performed a Knightly duty,” Randall gladly backed her up.

“Yeah, but one right doesn’t fix all the bad magic he’s done,” Lilith snorted.

“Our past does not define us,” Hamish scolded. “We weren’t perfect before we were Knights, and we aren’t perfect now.”

“Wow, nice wisdom Ham Shank,” Randall nodded happily.

“Stop,” he groaned at the poor use of his name.

“I know he’s not exactly enthusiastic about this but were any of us really at the start?” Layton looked between the three of them.

“I was!” Randall jumped up.

“Okay, yeah, sorry, I forgot we have the world’s most hyper puppy in our group,” she chuckled when he crossed his arms and sat back down.

“Need I remind you that this hyper puppy has the most kills out of all of us,” Randall smirked.

“Not true and you know it,” Layton raised a brow.

“Second most kills,” he grumbled.

"Third," Lilith scoffed.

“Back to the topic at hand, guys,” Hamish reclined backward into the couch. For the next few hours, the four of them argued and bounced ideas back and forth. Lilith was deadest on killing him while Randall was completely against it. Hamish was slowly leaning towards bringing him into the fold while Layton tried to offer an unbiased opinion for either side. She wasn’t a leader, no, that was Hamish’s position and she wasn’t bloodthirsty like Lilith. She also wasn’t extremely easygoing like Randall. She was the one that cared for the group. The glue, if you will. And that’s how she always conducted herself when things weren’t all right between the Knights. She'd hear out their ideas, make some semblance of logic out of it, and offer a response that had everyone’s best interest in mind. Even if that included the newbie Lilith despised so much. Layton was eventually tasked to deliver Jack the courtesy of one meal. She felt guilty enough to ask him what he wanted and, although he was clearly irritated and disgruntled regarding the whole situation, he realized that this was probably the best he was going to get. So, Layton fetched him and the rest of the crew their lunch.

During his time of solitude, he had learned quite a bit of the Knights of Saint Christopher. There were various old texts and artifacts in their basement, and he had carefully gone over all that he could get his hands on. While he was finishing the last of his fries, the residents of the Den were gradually coming to their decision. Lilith mulled over her thoughts before planting her elbows on her knees and leaning forward.

“Okay. So, I say we kill him,” Lilith smirked.

“You always say that,” Randall groaned. She had been saying this line repeatedly throughout the whole conversation. He stared at the ceiling tiredly.

“And I’m always right.”

“Nobody’s always right,” Layton sighed, sipping on her shake. Lilith crossed her arms and leaned back.

“Might be a waste of a good champion,” Hamish said.

“He’s no champion. He is a member of the Order. He is our enemy,” Lilith clapped her hands. “Wake up guys, open your eyes.”

“The guilt he’s feeling is punishment enough. The guy’s a breakup song on repeat,” Randall sat up.

“Aw! He feels bad? Why didn’t you say so?” Lilith faked a pitying expression. Layton sighed and dropped her head onto Hamish’s shoulder. She felt an arm inch its way around her shoulders and she doubled down on her action, much to the chagrin of her nerves and better judgment. At this point, most of them had moved seats. Randall had migrated over to their couch and sat on Layton’s right, leaving her in the middle. Their positions similarly reflected their views. Three against one.

“Come up with a punishment that doesn’t involve slicing open an artery and we’ll talk,” Randall frowned.

“Guys, we all know there’s only one way to solve this,” Hamish smirked.

“Here we go again, are you sure?” Layton looked up. Their faces were close, scarily close. She could feel her heart ready to leap out from her rib cage.

“I’ll win, like always,” he mumbled into her ear. His voice was silky smooth and her face flushed. He didn't notice before he removed his arm and stood up. “Let’s go, Lilith, you and me.” The girl smirked and jumped out of her seat.

“I’ll set it up,” Layton rolled her eyes at the unexpected excitement and energy brimming from her. “You might want to tell Jack that it’s going to take a little longer,” the brunette motioned towards Randall and then the basement. Afterward, she headed over to their cabinet and fetched the red solo cups. She carefully filled them with the cheapest beer she could find and arranged them neatly for beer pong. Hamish and Lilith stood at opposite ends of the table and the game ensued with Lilith taking the lead. Unfortunately for her, the tables quickly turned, and Hamish caught up. Randall was cheering from the sidelines with Layton by his side. Both were nursing their own cups of alcohol to participate in the festivities. Layton was confident in Hamish’s skills and although Randall wanted the eldest to win, she knew he was secretly rooting for their brooding roommate. It was the way he stared at her every time she landed a ball. Maybe she should ask him about their relationship later. Their decision was finally made when Hamish’s ping pong ball landed in Lilith’s last cup. She looked at the cup disappointedly before chugging it down and crushing the plastic in her hand.

“Fine,” she growled. “Let’s see what pea brain is doing.” The four of them stumbled down the steps to find Jack casually reading one of their books.

“Hey! This isn’t a library,” Hamish waltzed in with a solo cup in hand.

“I was doing some research,” Jack smiled, noting the strong stench of alcohol. Day drinkers, huh.

“I guess who doesn’t want to spend their last day alive reading some old book?” Lilith scoffed. She eyed up him like prey and she was ready to tear him to shreds.

“Your reliquary is almost as good as the Order’s,” Jack complimented ignoring her attempt to intimidate him.

“Reliquary?” Hamish raised a brow.

“Your collection of magical artifacts,” Jack explained with a wave of his hand.

“That’s not ours,” Lilith quickly corrected.

“This is magical contraband, confiscated by the Knights over the centuries,” Randall pointed to the items around him. He plopped himself down on an old chair and took a sip of his drink.

“Think of this as an evidence locker,” Hamish agreed.

“A dusty evidence locker,” Layton ran a finger along the top of a short bookcase.

“Well, then you might wanna do a better job of securing it. Some of this stuff is pretty valuable,” Jack furrowed his brows.

“It’s in the basement of a house with four werewolves. I think it’s fine,” Lilith bristled.

“Have you ever read any of this stuff?”

“Of course not. We fight bad magic. We don’t perform it.”

“And we don’t often come down here,” Layton added.

“That’s too bad. You might learn something,” Jack got up from where he was seated. He turned around so that he was facing all of them before glancing down at the book he was reading. “Do you know why you eat your victim’s hearts?”

“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you? Tradition.” Randall sighed.

“No. You do it to stop the path of the magic. Okay,” Jack began reciting the book. “If you don’t eat the heart, the magic continues on its ways, following the necessary path to perform thy practitioner’s bidding.” This caught all their attention, even Lilith.

“Well, fuck me,” she shrugged.

“There’s a lot in here about the hides and their champions,” Jack continued. “Greybeard is the fearless one.”

“Sounds about right,” Randall nodded with a smug smile.

“Tundra, the most cunning.”

Hamish narrowed his eyes at the mention of his hide. It was one of the reasons he was the leader after all. 

“Midnight is the reckless one.”

“We call him ‘Cannon Fodder,’” Randall informed.

“Shadow, the quickest.”

Layton hummed to herself when she felt her hide surge with pride.

“I guess that makes you, Timber, a loner,” Jack turned to Lilith.

“You got a problem with an independent wolf?” She snarled, ready to fight.

“Not at all. But here’s the thing about Silverback. He’s the most powerful.”

“You’re saying you want to be in charge?” Hamish immediately took offense. He was the oldest member and a new Knight wasn’t about to overrule him.

“No, thanks. But we do want the same thing. Look, you guys want to take down bad magic. I want to take down a bad magician. I’m proposing an alliance,” Jack finished.

Lilith looked to the others before returning her attention to him. “Who’s your bad guy?”

“Edward Coventry. He’s the leader of the Order, and he’s responsible for my mother’s death.” The others glanced at each other. That wasn’t what they had expected to come out of his mouth. Layton honestly felt bad for him. She was lucky that she hadn’t lost anyone close to her, yet, so she could only assume what that pain was like.

“We don’t do revenge,” Lilith rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, you just kill people at random.”

“I’ll kill you.” She stepped forward; her hands already formed into fists.

“Thank you for proving my point. Guys! We can help each other.”

“He should’ve had a choice,” Randall sighed. “We didn’t give him one.”

“Someone was overzealous at the time,” Layton bumped her shoulder into his.

"I thought he was a good candidate," Randall shrugged.

“We’ll try an alliance.” Hamish crossed his arms.

“For now,” Lilith sneered. Randall jumped up from his chair and slapped Jack on the back. This was the perfect outcome. And if all goes well this really would be another win for the Rand-man.

“Let’s get to work Rookie,” he smiled.