Who Let The Vamps out?

Aleksei was left behind, kept under watch by the three wolves that circled around him and his car while Tig and Owen led Noah and Micka further into the woods.

“I don’t get it, is Aleksei our enemy or our ally?” Micka whispered, unable to hold back his curiosity any longer.

“Neither.” Noah mumbled. Micka rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah? Is that why he threatened to burn THE ENTIRE FOREST FOR YOU?”

“It’s complicated.”

“No shit.” Micka growled. “Just so you know, I don’t trust him.”

“He’s not a bad person, Micka.”

“No, Noah, you’re not a bad person. You’re always finding the best out of the worst of people.” Micka shot, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “It’s like you’ve got this weird magical power that makes others want to be good. For fuck’s sake, you even saw potential in someone as hot-headed and bad mouthed as me and if that isn’t a supernatural power, then I don’t know what is.”

Noah’s eyes widened.

“Look, even if I don’t trust him, I trust you. If he you think he’s trustworthy, then I guess we’re on the same boat,” Micka said. He gave Noah a small nudge and offered a small smile. “So stop looking so miserable, you’re making me depressed.”

“We’re here.” Tig grunted. They looked up with furrowed brows, looking around them but seeing nothing but more trees and bushes.

“This is your den?” Micka asked bluntly. “Where’s the alpha? All I see is-”

But before he could finish his sentence, two women came out from the bushes and pulled a sack over their heads, cuffing their hands behind their back and pushing them to the ground.

Noah and Micka shouted and squirmed, but Tig and Owen picked them up and threw them over their shoulders. They didn’t want anyone to know where their den was located and continued walking on foot with Noah’s and Micka’s eyes blindfolded.

“Well, this is just great,” Micka grumbled, feeling Tig’s shoulder blade pierce into his stomach at each step.

They were carried to the den and once they arrived, they were both pushed onto the floor, falling onto their knees. Owen uncuffed them, removing the bags from their heads.

“Jeez, have you ever heard of the word ′gentle’?!” hissed Micka, his blond hair now a mess. Strands of hair were sticking out in all directions, looking like a bird’s nest.

The two of them looked around, their lips parting in shock.

They were expecting the den to be in a dirty, dark cave, but instead, they were in a classy modern building that looked like it belonged to a rich CEO. It was polished to perfection, with large windows that gave you a perfect view of the forest below, rows of books stacked alphabetically on the shelves, a fancy black office table that was at least four meters long. And sitting behind the luxurious desk was a man who greeted them with a lopsided grin.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” he said in a husky, raspy voice with a thick Hispanic accent.

The man wore a black shirt with his sleeves rolled up, revealing tattoos that trailed down his left arm.

He was fairly tanned with short black hair and a natural grin etched on his lips. Despite the smile, the boys could feel an intimidating and dangerous aura around him, and it wasn’t just because the man was wearing expensive jewelry that cost more than they could count.

“Now, tell me, what are two human boys doing on my side of the land?”

“Are you the alpha?” Noah gulped. The man smiled, revealing two pearly-white canine teeth.

“Diego Dirus,” he introduced himself, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded together.

“I’m Noah.”

“Micka,” he said. “We were wondering if you could help us.”

Diego blinked before bursting into laughter, his rough voice filling the spotless room. The omegas stiffened, looking at the boys with pity.

“Si, si, me encantaria (yes, I’d love to), but you see, sweetheart, I don’t do charity work,” he explained in a deep, raspy voice. “Especially not for humans.”

“It’s not charity work, we’ll give you something in return,” he argued, which caught Noah’s attention. Micka never said anything about this beforehand.

“Yeah?” Diego smirked. “And what would a human have that’s worth something to me?”

“I uh, I dunno,” Micka grumbled, not having thought this through. “I think I might have a piece of gum in my pocket. Lemme check.”

The omegas had to mentally stop themselves from groaning. Noah quickly stepped in.

“Our friend is dying and we need a cure,” he begged. “We were told that Alpha blood could cure her.”

The room filled with murmurs and gasps. Noah and Micka obviously didn’t know what kind of favor they were asking.

Even members of a pack couldn’t get their hands on Alpha blood. It was sacred and symbolic, werewolves only got a taste of it when they turned 6, followed by an entire ritual where an omega would pledge his or her life and oath to the pack.

“You two are out of your minds.” Owen snarled, before turning towards his leader. “Diego, let’s just kill them! Their ignorance and stupidity have brought nothing but disrespect to your name!”

Two omegas stepped up and grabbed Noah and Micka by the arm, pulling them to their feet and dragging them towards the door.

Diego watched with a bored expression as the two boys tried to retaliate. Micka slammed his fist against the one holding him before being seized by two others. He kicked and shouted, glaring at Diego’s nonchalant gaze.

“You fucking coward!” he barked, putting up a fight. “You call yourself an alpha but you have your servants doing all your dirty work! Human this, human that, you think you’re so tough just because you guys have sharp teeth and claws?! You’re nothing but accent and tattoos, alpha my fucking ass!”

That’s when amusement finally sparked in Diego’s eyes. He raised his hand, telling the omegas to stop. And they did.

“You have a problem with supernatural creatures?” Diego smirked, intrigued by the firey gaze burning in Micka’s eyes.

Not a trace of fear, just the way he liked it.

“Oh buddy, you have time? Because I have an entire list,” Micka laughed bitterly.

“Micka,” Noah hissed, trying to put some sense into his best friend, but there was no stopping Micka now.

“Look, I know you think humans are pathetic and worthless, but we aren’t. My friend is dying and her life is no where near meaningless. She’s strong, brave, and one hell of a leader, and fuck, I’ve never met a girl who could make me shut up with just a glare.”

Micka stopped to catch his breath. “So could you sympathize with us for one second and give us the cure? Aren’t werewolves supposed to be half human or something?!” Micka shouted, rage filling his words. He paused to catch his breath, his unruly hair falling over his determined eyes. “Diego, I can’t let her die.”

The room fell silent and Diego licked his lips, staring at Micka. He leaned forward, pressing his elbows against the table.

“¿Ella te gusta?”

Micka blinked blankly. “I take French. You know, bonjour, baguette, croissant, the Eiffel tour, hon hon hon,” he babbled on.

“He’s asking if you like her,” Noah translated under his breath. Micka blinked, turning towards Diego who waited for an answer. He took in a tight breath.

“Yeah, I fucking gusta her. What are you going to do about it?”

Diego laughed again, his shoulder shaking as he half bit his lip. From deep inside his chest came a great shaking motion and his face muscles grew tight. Everyone stared at him, both scared and confused. He finally calmed himself down, his dark eyes fully focused on Micka.

“Stupid and loyal, I like that,” he drawled, studying Micka from head to toe. “Alright, pup, you want Alpha blood? I’ll give you Alpha blood.”

Micka and Noah smiled.

“But on one condition,” he said. He pulled out a gun from his belt and slid it across the wide table. It stopped perfectly at the edge. “Only one of you can leave with it.”

They both blinked in surprise.

“You want one of us to stay?” Noah asked, confused. Diego shook his head, tightening the muscles in his jaw with a smile.

“That’d be too easy,” he said. “I want one of you to die.”

Noah’s eyes widened.

“An equivalent exchange. A life for a life,” he went on. “So? Which one of you is going to pull the trigger?”

“Wait, you want one of us to pull the trigger on the other?” Noah demanded at the absurd offer.

“You want me to say it in Spanish for you friend?”

“Hey!” Micka snapped, offended.

“What’s it going to be, boys?”

Micka bit his lower lip. “All we have to do is pull the trigger and you’ll give us your blood? How can we trust you?”

“Wolves stick to their words, guapo.” The seriousness in his voice and gaze made it hard for Micka to doubt his words.

“Fine,” said Micka, stepping forward and picking up the gun. He weighed it in his hand and Noah’s eyes widened.

“Micka, what are you doing?” he demanded frantically.

“You heard him,” said Micka. “If one of us dies, the other gets the cure.”

“Yeah, but I think you’re forgetting the part where ONE OF US DIES!”

Micka studied the gun. He had never held a gun before in his life and was surprised by how light it felt.

Micka wondered if he could shoot Diego but knew that he’d probably fail. Besides, even if he did manage to shoot him, the omegas surrounding them would rip their throats out before they could even leave the building.

There was only one option: A life for a life.

Micka looked towards Noah and slowly raised the gun towards him. Noah stiffened when he saw the hollow barrel aimed at his head.

“I’m sorry, Noah,” Micka whispered. His hands were shaking, but he could still get a clear shot of Noah. “I have to save Astrid. I... I promised her.”

Noah felt the blood in his face drain down his neck, his mind sent into a frenzy of questions. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his stomach turning into knots.

“Micka,” he murmured, his throat feeling dry. He felt conflicted. He knew that this was the only way that they could save Astrid, but he couldn’t help but feel a stabbing pain when Micka picked the gun up so easily and pointed it at him like their friendship meant nothing.

Noah felt selfish, but he couldn’t help his train of thoughts: how could he? Aren’t we best friends? Does our friendship mean nothing to him?

“Diego said that he’s going to give us his blood. This is the only way,” Micka uttered, holding the gun with two hands to try and stop himself from trembling. “I’m sorry, Noah, I’m sorry,” he apologized repeatedly.

Diego grinned. He could smell the tensions and fear in the air.

“You’re going to kill your bestfriend for a girl?” He mused from behind, but his smile vanished when Micka laughed.

“You must be fucking crazy if you think I’d hurt my best friend,” he snorted.

“Oh? Then what are you going to do?”

Micka cocked his head towards Diego with a tight smile, fear pounding against his chest. But there was no hesitation when he spoke.

“What do you think, macho man? I’m going to kill myself.”

Noah’s eyes widened when Micka changed the direction of the gun from Noah to himself. The barrel was right above Micka’s ear and time seemed to painfully slow down, but it wasn’t enough to stop him.

“MICKA-” Noah screamed, but it was too late.

Micka closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.