Meta and the Marines II Chapter 3

A different take on the traditional M/M werewolf romance topic: less romantic, less traditional, more disturbing and with conniving wolves, vampires and submissive marines.


Comments or requests for more of Meta (& the Marines) can be emailed to Meta.JohnAR@gmail.com or check out www.amazon.com/author/johnar.

Depending on reception, I will post more chapters.


And if any military boy wants to start a MetaPack, let me know ...

John A.R.

Meta & the Marines II

(Meta Origins)

CHAPTER 3

While they were waiting for their ordered food, Sam asked: "Where are we going next?"

"Flagstaff, Arizona," Prime answered, refilling his cup with iced water.

"May I ask why?" Sam continued carefully pushing the little card aside announcing the latest combo specials.

"We're going to see a Shaman there," Brian continued, knowing he would have to explain the history to Sam.

"What do we want from him?"

"Her. It's a she. We met her years ago. She is the Shaman, who told us why we were so lost despite having a healthy Alpha, a smart Beta and a ...," he looked teasingly at CE sitting next to him at the aisle, "... strong enforcer."

"How did you guys find her?" Colt asked Prime with a hint of wariness.

"Some traditional wolf pack had accused her of charlatanry as she said even a gay wolf can have a mate. So we thought that might be a good place to go to." Brian seemed to ignore Colt's feeling.

"She knew about Colt?" Sam seemed surprised.

"No. Well, she knew we were a special pack, her being a LGBT wolf shifter expert or so. Not only because we were all gay and a small pack anyway, without any land. She said Fate had destined us to have a meta. And our first job was to look for this meta. So we went. We were wandering through most of the states in the U.S. for 18 months before we found Colt's scent."

"We'd already bought tickets for Europe to look there," CE added unusually talkatively. Maybe he felt compelled to help briefing his fellow enforcer.

"Only when CE picked up Colt's scent in a gay bar in San Francisco could we cease with our wandering around," Brian continued.

"All that nomading around made us feel like cats," CE nearly spat on the floor next to him.

"Gay bar in San Francisco?" Sam asked in Colt's direction a bit too smugly.

"Yes, that's where humans tend to find other gay men," he answered with a naughty smile. "And obviously that's where lonely wolf shifters go too."

CE winced like a beaten puppy.

"So how did she know?"

Brian shrugged his shoulders. "No clue. I guess that's why she's a Shaman."

"I was totally confused when I saw you guys," Sam confessed.

Nobody asked why because the waiter, who barely spoke a word of English and had a myriad of acne scars in his face, came with a tray full of food. He decided to leave the improvised tray table next to them, as there was no way all the ordered food would have fit on the table between the five plates.

Without hesitation, Colt hungrily went for French fries, which actually were quite okay. "So what were you thinking when you met us for the first time?"

Sam looked cautiously to Prime, who bit into his first piece of his steak with fried eggs. Only when the Alpha had swallowed, Sam started to cut his own steak. After a healthy piece had disappeared in his mouth, he answered: "In the beginning I was totally smitten with you, Colt. You smelled so sexy. I mean you smell sexy." Sam blushed.

"We know," Brian grinned with sympathy while appreciating his double portion of French toast. "Wine. Makes your head swim."

"I was desperately trying to catch your attention but you seemed to focus on accounting like nothing else existed in the world."

"Seems it's not only me who read people wrongly," Colt chuckled in innocent amusement.

"And then when I finally dared to approach you, this," he pointed his knife to Prime, "hunk of an alpha wolf shifter was hovering over you. I had to change my underwear afterwards."

"Hovering?"

"Yes, Alpha. I couldn't get closer than one yard to Colt when talking with him. Your growl was making sure of that. And you know I would never provoke an alpha."

"Good boy," CE said proudly.

"So then I was confused. I thought Colt was top; at least that's how I smelled him. But an alpha was his boyfriend, at least that's what I thought ..."

"Boyfriend?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders innocently. "I know. Anyway, then my pack made sure I stayed away from you guys, so I never fully understood what was going on ... the meta thing is not very common."

"Meta thing?"

Colt chuckled. "One word questions today, Prime?" he asked.

Prime shrugged. "Hungry."

"It's confusing. I mean people on campus still don't understand what's going on."

"That's okay. As long as we know," Colt said. "Nevertheless, I don't think we know everything about what's going on, so that's why we want to visit the Shaman. -- I should thank her for sending those hunks towards me."

"So should I," Sam added.

Prime grinned, Brian smiled and CE took a big gulp out of his strawberry milk shake.

"Sometimes I just want to tell my previous pack how wrong they were about things," Sam continued.

"Don't," Prime ordered quickly, "not worth it."

"Yes, Alpha."

"So we haven't talked about our Beta flirting with my mother yet," Colt decided to change the topic.

Brian choked on his French toast, so CE had to hit his back hard. When he had recovered, he said: "Colt, really?"

"Well, I heard MILFs are very en vogue."

"Only when they have all their teeth," Brian added quickly.

"I know, it was just too weird seeing you making love to her with a swab," Colt pushed the thought away.

When they walked back to their van, Prime suddenly stopped next to Colt, so CE on their six nearly ran into him and Colt.

"What's up?"

"I have a missed call."

"So?" Colt looked at Prime, who seemed to have been visited by a ghost.

"It was my mother."

Brian went to his Alpha and put his hand on his shoulder. "You OK, Prime?"

"Yes."

"Want to call her back? We'll wait in the car," Colt suggested.

"No, she didn't leave a message. She will call again," Prime stated having regained his cool.

When they got on their way to Arizona they quietly listened to some 60ies radio station, playing innocent songs about surfing and first love.

Nobody stated the obvious: It couldn't be a coincidence that on the very day they met Colt's obnoxious parents, Prime's stuck-up mother, who hadn't talked to Prime since he had been forced to leave his pack, would call him.

Something was going on.

And it couldn't be good.

---

"Would you like to have some coffee, gents?" the skinny personal assistant asked with trained professional courtesy as she pointed for the five men to sit down on the black leather sofas in the waiting area.

"No, thanks, but some water or a soda would be nice," Prime answered as usual for all of them, while he tried to push the leaves of some plant away making space for him and his pack to sit down. It seemed the waiting room wasn't designed for more than four guests at the same time.

"Which soda?"

"Diet Coke," Colt responded, as he knew he was the only one who wouldn't be satisfied with plain water. Sometimes he wondered whether any other drink than water, milk or beer made wolf shifter sick, until he reminded himself of having seen Brian with a Red Bull and Prime with some liquor.

"No problem, give us a minute." The young woman, maybe 25 years old, smiled dutifully and was off to another room, the office kitchen Colt presumed. She was slimmer than could be healthy and her jeans clearly sported the coveted `gap' between her thighs. As a consequence she had less breast than any of his boys pecs under the delicate white blouse, which let her white bra shine through. He didn't understand how any straight man could find this broomstick figure in any way sexually attractive despite the big, cute light brown eyes and luscious long blond hair, straightened ruthlessly like a with a ruler.

This office was ... an office, and not where he had expected a Shaman to accept visitors. It was in a boring low rise building housing contractors, real estate agents, some physiotherapists, lawyers and, it seemed, a Shaman. He had expected something traditional Native American and a waiting area featuring pseudo magical items instead of a collection of magazines from last month and a non-descript picture of New York's skyline in black and white, which could have been in any dentist's office. It seemed all the people he was meeting recently either were fully on stereotype or exactly the opposite. Was this a sign he was indeed in his dream world? Was his brain correct telling him in his dreams that he was not dreaming?

The skinny girl in her tight dark-blue jeans came back and put some store brand water bottles and Diet Coke cans on the little table in front of them. When she bent down, Prime politely turned his head so that he wouldn't look down into her blouse accidentally seeing the girl's bra hugging her tiny breasts and maybe even the seam of her delicate panties below the belly button. It wasn't that Prime minded, but he was pretty sure Amelie would have; and even if Amelie wouldn't, as she might have found the red hunk's attention desirable, he was definitely sure Colt would find a way to chew him out for such inappropriate behavior. And he really preferred not to anger the Meta, who seemed to become more and more possessive by the day. Checking out a female wouldn't have been a good idea.

"Here you go, it will be just another 10 minutes. Mrs. Ananke had an urgent appointment with the coroner," she informed them walking back to her desk to continue her typing on the tiny Apple laptop. Once in a while she printed something out and put the papers precisely on top of each other.

"No problem, we appreciate her being so flexible," Colt answered politely, observing Brian, who had admiringly glanced at the boyishly small ass of the assistant. Brian blushed and tilted his head exposing his neck.

Colt didn't lighten his look as if to say: `You are in trouble, boy, we will talk about this later today.'

"You are welcome."

"And has your mother called again?" Colt asked Prime, who played nervously with his phone.

"No. It's really weird. I didn't even know she still had my number." He put his phone into his shorts side pocket.

"And how do you know it's hers?" Colt brushed of some white gravel dust from his new blue New Balance sneakers.

"Oh, I've always stored her number in my phone; at least the number she had when I had to leave. I hoped for a long time she might call. I'm not surprised she still uses it after 10 years. She has always been very constant," Prime said.

"Not a bad thing ...," Brian added.

"Not unless you were my father. When he screwed up she let him know and feel it for several months. Forget jewelry and flowers. Unless he came back begging for forgiveness over months he couldn't get into her pants anymore."

Colt was a bit surprised how Prime talked about his parents' sex life; actually, he wasn't really.

"So maybe she was your old pack's meta ...," Colt volunteered.

"No." Prime's voice was firm. "She had no long-term thinking for the pack whatsoever. Her main concern was to look good and be admired for being the alpha's wife. She didn't care about anyone else."

In a roundabout way this was one of the biggest compliments Prime had ever made Colt.

Colt smelled something oily. It seemed some of the wheels of the assistant's office chair had been greased recently.

For some reason he got anxious.

The door opened, and a woman of undefined age entered while speaking markedly calmly on her mobile phone. "Sure, Mayor Brigson, I will help you with checking out that site. I'm sure it's nothing, somebody just has a lucid fantasy."

She dropped her expensive French handbag, which could at maximum contain her purse, a bit of make-up and her phone, on her assistant's desk showing five fingers to her clients, indicating five more minutes. She took the sheets of paper Amelie had prepared during her absence, nodding at her thankfully and then disappeared through another door, which seemed to be her office. "Of course, we can do it tomorrow. Would 10 o clock ..." Amelie had closed the door behind her so Colt couldn't hear the rest of the conversation. For some reasons he felt the phone call wasn't as important as she tried to pretend. He'd developed an immediate distrust towards this woman, but tried hard not to show it.

Indeed four minutes later the dark wooden door to the office opened and the woman returned which a huge smile worthy of an actress winning an Oscar. Her skin was without blemish and seriously tight, surely artificially tight thanks to a couple of facelifts. Her perfect nose had been done some time ago, as the eyelids, Colt assumed. The neck might have been tinkered with as well, but her professional white and stiff blouse collars made it difficult to confirm that. Her breasts were so perky that either she had had a boob job recently or she wore a very expensive and efficient bra; or both.

She was as slim as Amelia and even a bit smaller. And Colt had no clue how old she was thanks to the interventions by several surgeons over the past decades. She opened her mouth showing nearly too perfectly straight, equally sized and white teeth. Veneers, Colt thought for a second. "Good morning, gentlemen. I'm really sorry for the delay, but our mayor is a bit of bundle of nerves currently."

Prime got up approaching the lady. He looked obscenely tall, wide and rough compared to her delicate features. "No problem, Mrs. Ananke."

"I remember you, young man. You're Mr. Loope," she said proud of her memory.

"Indeed." Prime smiled politely.

"Welcome back, please come into my office. Prime, I think, right?"

While they followed the tiny lady in her perfect white blouse, dark knee-long skirt and lawyer appropriate black stockings in her black velvety high heels, which was such a contrast to Prime next to her with his wide neck, squared shoulders under a dark gray Marines T-Shirt, loose beige cargo shorts and really sturdy tanned calves, she turned around looking at Brian. "You must be Brian ... let me think, Brian ... Pratt?"

"Indeed, mam," Brain responded politely.

Colt looked again at the impeccably dressed Mrs. Ananke guiding them to their seats. His brain tried to tell him something, but he didn't know what. She had good legs. And he assumed that was due to genetics and not plastic surgery.

While they sat down on a leather sofa group identical to the one in the waiting room, she looked intensely at CE, who obviously felt uncomfortable in this office giving his twitching. It seemed to remind him of some unpleasant events in his past, Colt made a mental note to follow up on this.

Mrs. Ananke continued to browse through her memory. "Your name is tough. Burt, I think, ... Burt Thunder ..."

CE cringed at the name. "Indeed, mam."

"Oh, stop that `mam' thing, I already told you guys last time, it's `Betsy.'" She tried to smile endearingly.

Colt's nose twitched, the oil smell had become stronger in the office, and he didn't like this woman; everything screamed fake about her.

"So who are your new pack members, Prime?" she asked looking at the nerd and the handsome dark-haired boy, who could barely help himself but proudly displayed his muscles and tattoos in his green tank top. She granted him a nearly shy smile.

"This is Colt." Prime's voice was pleasantly warm and deep when he introduced Colt.

"He isn't a shifter, I feel," Betsy said quickly returning her attention to the scrawny nerd. Obviously, he looked even thinner in the company of four wolf shifter hunks.

"Correct. I'm the pack's Meta," Colt answered without hesitation instead of Prime, looking directly at the woman in front of him, who tried to keep her knees closed ladylike to avoid any embarrassment on the low sofa chair.

"Congratulation!" Betsy shouted after looking as if her brain needed some seconds to process this information. "You found your Meta!" She seemed to be genuinely excited. "When did that happen?"

"Nine months ago roughly," Colt answered. "Was a bit of a rocky beginning."

"I can imagine. When we have more time next time, you need to tell me everything about it. It doesn't happen so often that a pack's so special to finds its meta so quickly ..."

"Quickly?" Prime asked obviously remembering the awful long journey through the continent when they were looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

"Well, barely two years I think," she said as if that time span was equivalent to a long lazy afternoon. She ignored the growls and looked at the quiet Sam: "And who's that cutie?" It was obvious she found him highly attractive.

Sam looked quickly to Prime, a bit embarrassed because of the term `cutie.' The Alpha nodded his permission for Sam to talk. "Sam Thomson, mam, the latest addition to the pack," he introduced himself proudly. He quickly broke the eye contact, looking to Colt for reassurance that he wasn't in trouble because this woman was undressing him like eye candy.

"Sam, nice to meet you. From the NY State?"

"No, mam, born and bred in California."

"Really? Nice," she said licking her lips just a little bit. She turned her head to address Prime with a professional smile: "Outstanding, seems it's working out for you then. So what brings you to this middle of nowhere?"

"Well, Betsy, we have some questions, maybe you could point us into the right direction."

Colt noticed admiringly how diplomatic Prime was when speaking to the Shaman. Seems he had been trained that way.

"Sure, let me get the magic powder."

`Magic powder?' Colt repeated in his head. His bullshit meter went into the red zone.

She came back with some black sand-like substance, strewed a bit of it on a round flat glass bowl in front of them and then used a thin wooden stick to set it on fire. It didn't really burn but released a bluish smoke and filled the office with a sweet incense smell.

She mumbled some words in a language Colt didn't know, but had a bit of familiar ring to it, closed her eyes for 30 seconds and then opened them again. They didn't look different than before.

"Colt, I feel you have many questions. Let me help you," she said in a slightly off voice.

Colt hesitated a bit. He still thought all of this was a big scam. But in the end he wasn't here to get answers to questions, he wanted to understand more about this woman. Maybe by pretending to ask his questions, he would find out more about her motives. "I was told there are four steps to bind my pack to me as Meta. What's the third, to ensure their purity?"

She closed her eyes again, mumbling some few words. "If your pack is truly your pack, you will find out by yourself. I feel that you are close to discover it, give it a bit more time."

He wanted to respond, but she stopped him with her hand. "And on your next questions: Only when your pack's Inner Circle is complete, will you find the fourth step."

Colt raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything. So far not very helpful. "Somebody wants to kill me. Do you know who and why?"

She sucked in her cheeks as if he had asked a `nono' question. "I'm sensing some very powerful people are afraid of you. It's something you'll do in the future. Something, which will cost them their lives or freedom. A prophecy. And more."

"Who are my parents?"

Her body shook, she trembled as from fear. Prime looked a bit worried but didn't say anything.

"I cannot see your mother, she must have gone into hiding to protect herself or you. But your father. A mysterious man. A powerful man. A smart man. Controls many resources. Leads many men. I see him west, very west. I see him in a place close to yours. I feel that you know him, I feel that he looks out for you in one way or another, like Fate," she rambled.

"Why was I thrown away as a baby?" His voice broke.

"The prophecy. Only way to protect you was to hide you from those powerful enemies, who are ... were close ..." She nearly fell into seizure, her muscles contracted uncontrollably. She collected all her powers, and forced her eyes open. "Colt, you have strong spirits around you, your mind is powerful and I need to protect myself," she said weakly.

She sighed, got up and got herself some water. Afterwards she put more of the black powder into the smoke and closed her eyes again. "Prime, I sense something is bothering you." It seemed she had enough of Colt's `spirits.'

"Yes, when will my pack find peace and safety?"

Colt frowned. He would have never expected Prime to ask such a fundamental question.

"When your pack's Inner Circle is complete and the White Wolf has shown himself to complete the prophecy, you will live in peace for years to come."

"Who's the White Wolf?" was the obvious follow-up question.

"I don't know. Fate doesn't tell me. You'll find him one day, and he'll guide your pack to peace and all of you to your true destiny."

Prime seemed to want to ask more about his `true destiny,' but the Shaman had already moved his head to the left in Brian's direction inviting him to speak.

"How's my younger brother Bill?" Brian asked.

"He's doing fine, he's in a college in the East. He often thinks of you but is afraid to contact you, afraid for his wife's and young baby's safety if he does."

"He's married? And has a kid?" Brian repeated needlessly in weak voice.

"Yes, Brian." She opened her grayish eyes for a little bit to grant Brian a generous smile.

"Thank you."

"Burt?" she asked the next member of the pack, strictly according to the pack's hierarchy. Seemed she understood wolf shifters very well.

"No, Shaman, I don't need to ...," CE answered dryly.

"Your father knows that you're doing fine, Burt," she said anyway with a smile. CE choked on the information looking at the carpet so nobody could see his emotional reaction.

"Sam, I sense you have a big question which has darkened your heart for a long time," she encouraged the junior enforcer with what she tried to make a motherly smile.

Sam again looked at Alpha for permission to talk. Once he got it, he asked: "Why did my parents leave me behind with the Golden Chestnut Tree Pack?"

Colt listened closely. Sam had never talked about this, and they'd never asked. Colt felt bad about it. They'd invested so much in the young man, in his wellbeing. Yet, they'd never asked the obvious question about his parents. For some reason that made him distrust this woman even more.

"Sam, your parents are dead. They died fighting the Chestnut Pack. Because you were a pup only few years old the winning pack adopted you, it wouldn't have been proper to kill you or let you die."

Sam started to get moist eyes. Colt realized he'd been told horrible stories about his parents in his previous pack.

"They died honorably. Do not believe what you were told. They protected their alpha from the aggressive Chestnut pack to the bitter end, as your father was his strongest and most loyal enforcer. But their smaller pack lost the fight and they lost their lives like most others of that pack."

"Thank you," Sam whispered.

The other wolves understood now why Sam had wanted to become an enforcer so badly, and why he actually developed so quickly into one now that he got fed and trained properly. He was just following his genetic disposition inherited from his father, like Prime and CE were following theirs. Colt smiled at the young man. Colt was so proud of him. And if there had been any doubt left Sam would have the potential to be an amazing enforcer, this background information would have removed it completely; once and forever.

It seemed nobody wanted to ask any more questions -- at first.

"I'm sensing somebody of you doubts who I am," she continued as if not believing it herself. Although her eyes were closed, she seemed to look at Colt with a wicked smile.

The four wolves stared at him, not necessary in disbelief but in anticipation. "Yes, I have doubts about you, Betsy," Colt confessed.

"And why do you doubt me?"

"Because you're a vampire."

They room had gone completely quiet. Nobody dared to breathe.

Betsy opened her grayish eyes, took some kitchen cloth from underneath the table and threw it on the burning incense, extinguishing the fire and therefore the smoke and the scents. She put the bowl away obviously collecting her thoughts.

Colt expected to be kicked out of the office and be told never ever to dare to come close to her again. And he expected to get the silent treatment by Prime for the long car ride home to California, but he was surprised.

"Colt, I underestimated you," she started having regained her composure. "Well, no. I doubted Fate. Fate chose you as the Meta for this pack, and I doubted Fate made a good choice when I met you today. I apologize for that."

"No need," he said quickly, thinking: `Come to the point, half-dead.'

"I'm vampire. Well, I'm half vampire. My mother was human; my father couldn't bite her but loved her. She didn't survive my birth but she was human when she gave birth."

Prime's muscles became tense; his whole body went into protective mode. His left hand started to reach out to Colt to shield him from the vampire.

Betsy smiled at the protective gesture. She seemed to be genuinely moved. "Don't worry, Prime, I won't attack your Meta or any of you. I'm not suicidal. I wouldn't survive the attack of four fully grown male wolf shifters."

"We never knew."

"Of course not, because you smell my human half. But Colt smelled the vampire, I don't know why, but you did, didn't you?" She looked at the nerd with renewed interest as if her belief in Fate had been completely restored.

"Yes. Oil, already outside. Quite clearly. I just have difficulties to link it to vampires, because my brain decodes it as face cream or motor oil."

She smiled. "Motor oil, surely not here," she snickered. "That's why I used the heavy incense today, to cover my vampire scent, but you figured it out anyway," she conceded defeat, cleaning her hands with a wet wipe.

"... but you're a Shaman," Brian protested.

"Yes. But most of us are some kind of non-human, that's why we have the Shaman capability."

"Is that why some of the wolf packs ostracized you?" Prime asked quickly.

"I assume so. It has nothing to do with gay mates, or whatever the Internet says. There are lots of gay mates, despite what some funny male romance books want to make you believe, and most packs know that. What they are afraid of is my vampire half."

"Well, I understand that you don't really advertise it," Colt tried to be compassionate with the representative of a race, who had tried to kill him repeatedly. He got up. "I think we have already used enough of your precious time. Thanks for having us," he closed the session.

She smiled warmly at him shaking his hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you, even if your spirits are scary."

Colt smiled politely, saying "Thanks," to the Shaman and "Boys, let's go," to his wolves.

The four men nodded at the lady and left quickly behind their fast walking Meta, who hoped that nobody had seen what he'd just done.

"What's up?" Prime asked after some minutes of silence in the car.

"Let me think a bit, Prime," Colt answered a bit too sharply, staring out of the window observing the dull brown hills around the interstate.

The pack was quiet, not to attract the wrath of their irritable Meta. Sam focused on the street as he was driving now, Brian read on his e-reader and CE seemed to take a nap with an occasional snore. Only Prime was a bit restless because of Colt not talking.

"Can I have some chocolate?" Colt asked suddenly.

CE jerked up from his nap. "Mars? Snickers?" He sounded like a trader on a bazaar.

"Do you have a whole collection?" Colt joked.

"Of course. Also some ice cream bars."

"Coconut chocolate bar ice cream?" Colt didn't try to get his hopes up too high. For some reason he wanted coconut right now; and he knew he should remember why, but he didn't.

"Here it is."

"Thanks, CE, you saved my life again."

"Well, I hope next time I can beat someone up saving your life instead of just opening a box," he joked.

And Colt thought: `Might be faster than you think.'

"Please Colt, talk to us," Prime begged after Colt had taken his first bite.

"Okay. Who's ready for some naughty Meta questions?" as if asking somebody to participate in the next round of `Who wants to be a millionaire?'

"Me!" Brian shouted, obviously bored by his book.

"If you don't mind, us dumb enforcers will focus on any potential dangers while you brainy guys talk," CE stated professionally, incorporating Sam in this.

"Noted."

"Okay, Prime, Brian. I've never believed in this paranormal stuff, well until I met you guys that is," he chuckled at his stupid entry. "So I never believed in wizards, fortune tellers, astrologist, superstition or whatever, thus I was very doubtful about Shamans. And now that she turned out to be vampire, I trust her even less than before I met her."

"We didn't know," Prime apologized with a small voice.

"It's okay, Prime." Colt put his hand on the Alpha's naked knee, he enjoyed the shock he got from the physical contact. "So why would we think she's a Shaman and not a scamster?"

"She remembered all our names although we had been with her one and half years ago," Brian started the game.

"Easy. Was on the paper the assistant printed out for her. She got your name, Prime, from the credit card, then crosschecked with old record files and printed out the names."

Brian nodded. "She told you about the 3rd sign."

"She didn't. She only said that if you're my real pack, I will find out. That's what newspaper horoscopes do all the time: `If you are open today, you will make a new friend.' Well, if you don't make a new friend today, you weren't open enough. The horoscope is always right."

"She told me about the White Wolf."

"Well, we don't know who, where and what the wolf is. We don't know even if it's a wolf shifter or just symbol. And if we don't find peace, it is because we haven't found that wolf. Again a prophecy, which will become true anyway."

"She told you about your father."

"Yes, she told me exactly what I wanted to hear. I'm the son of somebody very important. Who doesn't want to hear that? And I was given away shortly after birth because they feared for my life like many other important people. It is a common topos in mythology: Zeus, Oedipus, Moses, all supposedly killed as babies but raised by foster parents, not knowing about their unique identity until they changed the world. I'm sure Brian you studied that in one of your English courses."

"She told me about my brother and CE about his father," Brian continued, as his job wasn't to agree with his Meta but to challenge his thinking.

"The assistant knew your names, she could have easily browsed for something on Google while we were waiting for the Shaman. That's why we had to wait: to give her assistant time to collect info."

"You mean she wasn't gone?"

"No. Did you see her velvet high heels? If she had arrived by car and got out she would have stepped into the gravel on the parking lot like us. My new New Balance were full of that white dust, her delicate velvet high heels were completely clean. Those shoes hadn't been outside today."

"Wow, are you Sherlock Holmes now as well?" Brian asked absorbing information.

"No, I just went there not to believe, so I picked up everything which didn't make sense."

"She could have changed shoes," Prime suggested.

"Yes, but where were her `outside' shoes, when she arrived? - Anyway her strategy was to make you guys feel good. Brian, you got some heart-warming info about your brother, CE about his proud father and Sam about his heroic parents. I hope all of it is true for you boys. But do we know whether it is?" He knew he was treading on thin ice.

"You have an evil brain, Meta," Prime said softer than the meaning would suggest. "So why would she put us through all of this shit?"

"Good question. -- Sam, after all of what you heard today, from her, what should we do next?"

"Not sure. The only thing we could do is to look for your father. He seems to be close to our college."

Colt smiled.

"What?" Prime asked.

"That's what she wanted. -- She wanted to make sure we went home," Colt was convinced.

"Why's that?"

"I don't know. Want to turn around and ask her?"

Prime shook his head.

"So Brian what do you know about White Wolves?"

"Not much really, `will look it up at home. I've never seen a a spiritual white wolf shifter, some with regular white fur only. No clue whether he's an alpha, beta or somebody else like an alpha's mate."

"That would have been too close to some gay wolf shifter novels."

Prime looked at Colt with confusion.

"Just something I read on the Internet when I wanted to make sure you don't use me as your submissive alpha fuck toy bitch, Prime." He ignored Prime's growl and said: "Continue, Brian."

"Only thing I know is that it's also kind of a symbol for peace amongst packs. I could compare it to the Christian picture of the lamb and lion lying next to each other in paradise. Something aspirational, which will never happen in this world."

"So something like: If you find peace, symbolized by a White Wolf, you will have found peace?"

Brian chuckled. "I think you'll be an amazing consultant, you can tear any CEO into pieces."

"Not part of the job description of consultants. Anyway, there are no White Wolves in reality then. But golden or silver wolf shifters?"

"Don't know why. Will look it up at home."

"So last time she sent you on a journey to look for me. She obviously didn't expect it to be finished so quickly. What if she wants to send us on another restless journey?" Colt closed the White Wolf topic, refocusing his thoughts on the Shaman's potentially sinister motives.

"So she wants to distract us?" Brian asked.

Colt shrugged with his shoulders. "I don't know."

"So what do we do now?" Prime asked scratching his high'n'tight.

"Guys, I think we have a problem," Sam suddenly said nearly as if answering Prime's question, pointing at the flashing lights in front of him.