Right behind Silver there were three angels. They had been created in the image of God himself, so it came as no surprise they looked like Greek gods. Front and centre in his white armour and white hot sword was Gabriel. They sent down their general to deal with me?

In this state they may as well have been statues, and her sauntering past them would happen in the blink of an eye. While Clara could manipulate time, she could not freeze them individually in place. 

“I’m jealous…” Clara confessed. 

“Eons of practice…”

“I wouldn’t discount talent…”

There came a bright flash of light, powerful enough that the werewolf used her paws to shield those eyes. Clara did not react, the divine light of creation was something she was all too familiar with. 

There came a snap of the fingers and just like that the forest went dark. Other than feeling drained, Clara waited for Julia to recover before saying anything. 

“Go!” Clara said with wild eyes. “I won’t be able to hold them at bay for long.”

The large eyes of a predator opened wide. Even though the fur, Clara could tell that those massive muscles were twitching. Fight or flight, and in this case the werewolf chose the latter and ran off towards the camp. 

“Okay,” Clara said. “Take all the time you need. You know how to reach me if you want to talk…”

The werewolf cocked her head to the side as though questioning the finality of those words. While Julia did not share anything about her time in that compound, Clara spoke little about what happened at The Grand… I have a few tricks up my sleeve….

Clara had a lot of emotions swirling around whenever The Grand came up. It was more than a hotel nestled in the Rocky Mountains that served as a haven for things that went bump in at night. It was where she died at the hand of goddess and took out their greatest foe. Later she was lured back to meet up with her sister who had been turned into a vampire. It was not a warm family reunion… The reason I don’t want to talk about it…“

I… I can’t imagine they will let this one stand,” Clara began. “Artemis still had connect(ions)—”

“Can you find your way—”

The werewolf turned her head at an odd angle, and Clara could have sworn to cock an eye. Had this been a defiant teenager, the fallen angel would have understood precisely what this was… At least she still has her sass…

“Nor is she holding a grudge…” Ethereal, another one of Hecate’s personalities, said. 

Everything that Ethereal said was cold and emotionless. Every syllable leeched the joy from the room, as though death herself had spoken… Goddess of ghosts and necromancy…

While blunt those words left a bitter taste in Clara’s mouth. Julia did not know that Clara could have intervened sooner to save her. Instead it was another who was sent at great personal risk to empower the werewolf to free herself and the other women… Now is certainly not the time… will it ever be?