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Lily of the Valley (CA - Silas)

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Mister Betine rested against the back of his chair, watching Silas' motions. He glanced at the waiter as he passed and rubbed one thumb carefully over the other over his interlocked fingers. He smiled.

"Your last matter of business in the Varnished Hills," he said. "But before we get to that, I have something that might interest you."

The beta's hand withdrew to his suit coat, and from within the inner chest pocket he produced an enveloped which was placed flat on the table. Soundlessly pressed in Silas' direction, the envelope arrived within reach. The beta watched Silas.

The envelope was not at all opposing. It was a simple white mail envelope, tucked closed - not sealed. Inside: Addresses. Place names. Phone numbers. Everywhere Silas had been one week ago, and everyone he had spoken to; among it, an entire transcription of Silas' conversation with Diane Betine.

"I.. see." I said, gingerly sipping my tea while looking over the contents of the envelope. Why wouldn't the Beta have all this information? Of course my car was bugged. Or Diane's phone. Well, both, most likely.

Unsure of what to say, I tucked the papers back into the envelope, folded it closed and let is sit in front of me. I was surprised the table wasn't crushed under the weight of the elephant on top of it.

Was this my last meal? Maybe. Had I known, I would have ordered something much more fattening. I kept my eyes low and stroked the coarse hair along my jaw with my forefinger and thumb, pinching my bottom lip where they met in the middle, searching for words.

By the way, your daughter sent me on a suicide mission to the Varnished Hills..

I refrained from saying. Instead I looked up and met Balthazar's eyes.

"I was woefully unprepared for the consequences of taking that mission from your daughter."

"That's alright." Beta Betine said, his smile unrepressed. He still rested easily against the back of his chair, with one leg now crossed over the other, and his fingers loosely interlocked in his lap.

"My daughter is well versed in tradition, Mister Thaddeous." He said. "You were at a disadvantage."

The soft tinkering and talking in the background of the room noticeably subsided as if some peaceful ghost had stolen into the room and ushered everyone away. Mister Betine and Silas Thaddeous alone remained in the great dining hall.

"You share a common self-interest in exposing the bloodlust of your adversaries. And you, a curious man, require little prompt. After your encounter in the Varnished Hills, I would expect nothing less of you than pursuit of answers. But answers were intended to be forthcoming after your sabbatical, and at no bodily risk to your person."

"Let me assure you, we have been aware of Harvey Bolt and his gang for quite some time. His pursuit, however, is not of principle interest to our faction. There are things in which we specialize, and the prosaic necessities dealt with by Talkane and his people would sully hands meant for finer work. You are an intellectual man, Mister Thaddeous; A scientist, not a mobster."

Mister Betine reached for his glass and took a soft sip.

"As I said when you began your work with us, assimilating into the mind of the Svalnaglas naturally comes with questions. I told you that you were welcome to ask me anything at any time. In this case, it would have spared you the unpleasantries of Mount Turbulence."

"In the future, you can negate enforced absences of leave by taking your rest as seriously as you do your work, and leaving Talkane to his own affairs."

If I didn’t feel transparent before, now I felt about as exposed as a front page celebrity scandal. He knew everything. Maybe.

“I can put it behind me.. not until one more question is answered. Tiffany, one of the Talkane’s... do we know if she’s safe?.. there was a cave in and we were seperated..”

Beta Betine lifted his elbows onto the table while his fingers remained interlocked in front of him.

"Am I to presume it would satisfy you if she was?" He said. Balthazar's bright blue eyes narrowed at Silas, appearing to both pierce and perceive him.

Ehhhh.. I felt like a boy again, navigating a "choose your own story" book, writing myself into the dead end. "Satisfied isn't the word I'd use, but relieved, maybe. Regardless of faction and status, Svalnaglas blood is Svalnaglas blood.."

Beta Baltronan appeared pleased with Silas' answer, but there was something cast  behind his eyes, - some shadow of forethought - held in reserve. He leaned back in his chair once more and lay one hand in his lap.

"I am glad to hear you say that." He said, "I have never had more faith in your potential with us. It was your fate to fall in with lesser men, but those who sent you to us did not know they were doing us a favor. They were returning one of our own, and have payed dearly for their manner of delivery. You have always belonged with us.  And one day, when you speak of Svalnaglas blood, you will realize you are speaking of your own kin."

"I am sorry that I know my answer will disappoint you." He continued, resting his other hand now on the edge of the table. "But I cannot say if Tiffany was ever recovered. Talkane is solely responsible to give an account of his bloodloss to the Alpha, and only the Alpha may request it. ... I regret to say Talkane is not careful with Svalnaglas blood."

"However," Beta Baltronan's tone changed subtly. "That is not to say we cannot learn her whereabouts by other means. I will employ every resource at the Crescent Moon's disposal to soon find you a better answer, and in the meantime you may return to your work unencumbered by this matter. How is that to you?"

“That is well, thank you.” I nodded agreeably.

I felt the meeting at that point was more or less concluded. I did feel refreshed, renewed, as much as a member of a crime syndicate probably could. Like shiny, albeit smelly.. well. You get the picture. I sipped the rest of the tea and waited to be excused formally, or for the Beta to excuse himself.

"Very good. Now," The Beta said. With that word he was to prove Silas' expectations wrong. He continued, "Let's talk about your business in the Varnished Hills."

"It has come to my attention," he said, "That something new has sprung up where an old tree died. The old stomping grounds of the fallen are empty no more."

Baltronan lowered his chin and his cold ice-blue eyes lifted. 'Elaborate.' His eyes seemed to say. 'Tell me something I do not know.'

Now I had to tread lightly. There were things I wasn’t willing to expose. But I also didn’t know what Diane had already revealed herself, and it would be obvious if I was hiding anything.

”As I’m certain you’ve heard, there were disappointingly unexpected factors that left us with a less than dignified outcome. We missed the hunters that had followed us in. For a small group, they’re well trained and highly skilled.”

No lies-only facts.

“However.. If anything good came of it- I had an opportunity to successfully pilot test my most recent work, three years in the making.. it will need some volume adjustments.” I leaned back, my own blue eyes never as cold as imposing as Baltronan’s, nonetheless I looked on.

“It can force a change on a werewolf outside of normal circumstances, regardless of their capabilities. It comes with a caution to the user; not intended for usage within close quarters. Revealing a werewolf’s form and throwing them off of their usual control, can be useful in the right circumstances.

“As for the nature of Ulrics new acquaintances; they’re scarcely a pack, if you can call it that at all. They’ll turn on each other or be scattered to the wind long before they can become a productive unit. It is an attempt, at best. At worst, they have attracted some attention of the nearby town.”

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