Sanctuary Killer: Home

Chapter Eight – Little Bird

Father was kind enough to have my things shipped here from New York and I must say I am very much looking forward to not living out of a duffle bag anymore. My bedroom suite in the pack-house is just as I remember it. Last time I decorated I was in my bohemian phase, which drove mother absolutely out of her head, which I have to admit I enjoyed much. The large tigers-eye maple four poster bed still taking center stage. The same bed that hasn’t seen any action in at least the last thirty or more years.

I walk in and toss my duffle bag beside the bed then fall face first into the soft material wishing I could fall asleep and slumber forever. I look up and see Mr. Whiskers the cat and reach for him thinking to myself dad never could throw that away. It said it was a gift from my mother on the day I was born. Fenris had a dog that was his birth gift, which now sits proudly next to Mr. Whiskers. We drug those toys everywhere, no telling how many times Mrs. McGillycuddy made repairs to them. They do look worse for-wear, but one of my most cherished items from childhood.

I take a deep breath as if to fill myself with courage, knowing that sooner or later I have to pay the pied-piper and have a conversation with mom and dad. I have so many random thoughts running through my head; I don’t know where to begin.

I roll over to the side of the bed and reach in the duffle bag to find one of Griff’s shirts. I feel the soft material and pull it out. I close my eyes without looking and rub it against my face, breathing in deeply. My eyes fly open with the realization this is not Griff’s shirt but the mysterious Mr. Conri. Birdy immediately smirks behind my eyes as if she had deliberately put it in the bag herself. I close my eyes again and hold the soft material to my nose. Suddenly my heart starts racing as I remember the events of last night. Butterflies dance in my stomach and a tingle races to my core. I groan, “Oh my goddess, what have you done to me?” I moan.

Just then a knock is at my door. I quickly hide the shirt under the pile of pillows at the head of my bed, like a teenage about to be caught with contraband in their room. “Who is it?” I ask rolling over to face the door.

“It’s me, Porter” says a thick British voice. I jump off the bed and fling the door open to jump into the outstretch arms of my childhood tutor. He grabs me around the waste and twirls us into the room.

“How’s my little bird?” he asks as he sets my feet back on the floor. He bends down, his eyes looking back and forth trying to catch a glimpse of my wolf behind my eyes. Suddenly a small yip like a puppy comes from my throat. “That’s my girl” he says with a wide grin on his face.

“Oh Porter, I have missed you so much”. I tell him as I hug him tightly around the waist and lay my cheek on his chest.

He quickly returns the hug, then holds me at arm’s length and says “Let me take a look at you, little bird”. His eyes roam up and down as he turns me from side to side and backwards, like a mother does to a small child after they fall.

Porter has always called me, Little Bird for as long as I can remember. He says he gave me the nickname when I was still a very small child. Being smaller than most girls my age. He said I reminded him of a small fledgling and that I needed to learn to fight, peck and find my place in the world. Porter taught me so many things over the years. His main focus has always been on teaching me how to fight and protect myself not only with my body, but with my mind. We would spend hours upon hours, going over techniques, building from my strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes training was so hard and strenuous I would barely make it back to my room and on several occasions, he would be the one to tuck me in at night.

“My how you’ve grown. Not the gangly little chicken legs, I remember.” he says. His eyes shining with pride. I hear a small tsk come from his mouth as his tongue clucks against his teeth. I see him looking at my shoulder. I immediately blush and try to hide the hickey’s as I cast my eyes downwards, as if ashamed. He turns his back to me and nonchalantly asks, “So do you want to talk about that?”

I look up and see he is again facing me and is pointing to the very thing I am trying to cover-up. “It’s not what it looks like Porter” I squeak. “Just some very adult petting gone awry” I whisper, feeling the heat from my blush. He frowns and gives me a look knowing I’m not telling the truth. He has always been able to tell when I’m lying.

Wanting to change the subject, I ask “So what brings you to my neck of the woods Porter?” I scold myself at the ironic selection of words. He looks at me and there is a nervous pause before he speaks. I know he is searching for the right words. Everything Porter says is calculated and weighed before it comes out of his mouth. “Starting today, you will be training with me, rain or shine.” He holds his hand up. “Before you say anything, let me finish”. He says as he sees my mouth open to speak. I quickly snap my mouth shut and listen. “Raelynne, I know you are strong, I taught you to be that way but….” Another pregnant pause. “But you have neglected your wolf. Yes. I know she is strong, otherwise, you wouldn’t be standing here”. He bends down again to look me in the eyes, as if to say “it’s okay I understand”. He continues. “I know you think you have everything under control, but I know you need to be stronger than you are now to be prepared for what is to come.”

I look his eyes and know he is speaking the truth about neglecting Birdy. Birdy comes forward just enough so he can see her cock her head sideways in interest. He winks and I can’t tell if it is for my benefit or hers.

“I am going to push you harder than I have ever pushed you Raelynne, with the single goal of keeping you from bending your neck to the first ass-wipe your mother sends your way.”

I immediately go on the defensive. “I will not bend my neck to any man” I say angrily.

“That may be true at this moment but there will come a time when you will have to submit”. He warns. “I am not asking you… I’m telling you and I am not saying this to hurt you. I am simply stating fact.” He reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder and pulls me in for another hug to comfort me.

“Now finish getting settled in and spend some time with your family first. We will talk about other things later”, he says pointing at my neck again. I just roll my eyes. “But I want you at the training grounds afterwards for mid-afternoon training” he says as he walks to the door.

“Yes, sir” I whisper. He pauses before going out my room, “It’s good to have you back, Lady Raelynne.” He says as he walks out and closes my door.

I stand there and the lifetime of moments with Porter flash through my mind. He has always been there for me for as long as I can remember, even at times when my own family wasn’t. I learned several years back that when I was born my mother made my father promise that Porter would always be there to protect me. I never really understood why, he simply did.

Over the years, I learned that many, many years ago on one of fathers visit to New Orleans, he saved Porter from certain death. Father was there to oversee the trial and unbeknownst to him, Porter’s owner had been plotting to kill father and framed Porter with a heinous crime with the sole purpose of getting father to New Orleans. Not only did he frame him for a crime he didn’t commit, he also turned Porter. Father knew that being a freshly turned vampire, Porter needed someone to mentor him. So, father asked him if he wanted his freedom. Porter of course said, yes. At first Porter, didn’t understand what father was asking. You need to understand that a few hundred years ago, black men were not free men, they were treated as slaves. Adding insult to injury, Porter was no longer a man and in vampire terms he was a mere fledgling himself in terms of a vampire’s life. Father saw something in Porter that no one else did.

Father explained to Porter, he had a vision of supernatural beings all living in harmony and that he was laying the ground work to establish what would become cities of Sanctuary, a place where any supernatural being could declare sanctuary. They would have the freedom to live there in peace without being declared a rogue. In our world, being a rogue is punishable by death, regardless if you were a werewolf, vampire, witch, druid, or Halfling. Sanctuary cities were established to welcoming rogues and asylum seekers and others seeking safety. The emphasis is to build on keeping humans unaware of the supernatural world forming connections in the human world in all aspects of human society.

It didn’t take Porter long to decide this was the opportunity of a lifetime and he became one of the first members to join dad’s new pack. Porter soon dedicated himself to the pack. Father then sent Porter to England so he could receive the best education possible. Porter excelled at everything he did and soon found his love of structure and order. He became obsessed with all things military. And that is how he came to be the Master of Arms for our Pack.