Part Seven ending up being a little bit long, so I kinda chopped it for
easy reading: 

        Darkness was starting to fall over District 10, when a dark blue
GMC van pulled into the car-park of a local bar. This part of the district
was a well known watering hole for all walks of life, salarymen, pimps,
pushers and junkies all rubbed shoulders here. Above them holo-signs
flashed in psychedelic hues, while clubs advertised their presence in
shocking neon. In contrast the streets looked as if they’d spent their
previous incarnation in a war-zone, dodging potholes seemed to be almost a
national pastime here. The ambience of entropy and decadence was further
enhanced by the steam-spewing manhole covers, whose emissions clouded the
area in a preternatural mist. 

	“Remember kid, no heroic shit, I don’t want to haveta start puttin’
you back together.” Jan-Anders growled softly. He was clad simply in
denims, leather jacket, T-shirt and his trade-marked “shit-kicker” boots.
At least these items were dedicated to him and would become spirit if he
shifted, eliminating what he termed “Incredible Hulk syndrome”. 

	“Don’t worry ‘bout me I can handle myself.” Mackie replied with a
mirthless smile. He was clad in a reinforced biker’s jacket and pants
which would at least give him some armour protection in case of stray
shots. He hefted a heavy caliber flechette pistol, and jammed it into the
shoulder holster, “Well shall we dine?”

	“Indeed sir, after you!” Jan -Anders gestured mockingly for Mackie
to go first. He had vague misgivings about Mackie accompanying him, but he
appeared to be able to handle himself in a fight. Well he’s a Saber, he
reckoned, he should have had at least minimal combat training. 

	Mackie descended from his van and closed the door, locking it
behind him. Walking around to the passenger side, he opened the door and
jokingly saluted Jan-Anders as he got out. Together the two of them walked
towards the nearest bar, mist swirling about their ankles. 

	“Okay the plan is, we wait here for the others to show, then we
proceed to where Mr. Green hangs out. We snatch him and ask him a few err
probing questions shall we say.” Jan-Anders said softly as they entered
the bar, “Olaf can pin-point us anywhere in the city. We give them until
eleven, then we go in solo.”

	“That gives us a couple of hours to scope things out. By the way
where do you pick up those cute tricks?!” Mackie asked with a wry grin,
“Is there a school or course for you guys or something, you know, ‘How to
break all known laws of science in one fell swoop.’ Coz’ you guys seem to
have a trick for all occassions.”

	“Nah its a perk of the job, if ou'’ve lived as long as I have you
get to pick up a few nifty ‘tricks’. C’mon what can I get yer?” he replied
steering Mackie towards the bar. 

	************************************************

	Nene opened her eyes, around her the virgin forest stretched out
into the distance. She felt the familiar frisson of fear running through
her veins. Not again; she moaned aloud, tears starting to well in her
green eyes, she was getting sick of this. In the distance a flock of birds
suddenly took to the air, their cries drowning the silence. Almost
unconsciously she started to run. Behind her something broke cover and
began the chase. She dodged fallen trees and cut the brambles, thorns
scratching and tearing her pale skin but she didn’t care, all she cared
about was that the “thing” that was persuing her didn’t catch her. 

	“Wake up Nene, forgodssake wake up!” she wept, legs beginning to
burn with the effort, chest heaving with exertion. Behind her, her persuer
kept pace, a small rational part of her brain noted. It wasn’t falling
behind but it wasn’t getting any closer either. She slowed slightly, so
did the chaser. Finally bone weary and exhausted she collapsed , knees
buckling, sobbing, naked and muddy. She closed her eyes expecting the
chaser to do whatever atrocity her subconscious had thought up. 

	“Just get it bloody over with!!” she screamed, nothing happened. 

	Opening her eyes she glanced behind her. To her astonishment, her
persuer sat not a metre away from her on its powerful haunches, also
looking a little muddy and tired. It or more appropriately she was
regarding her with inquisitive green eyes as the sunlight dappled her
ochre fur slashed with black bars. The tigress stood slowly and padded
softly towards Nene and lay down, putting its huge head in her lap. 

	“I’ve been running from you all this time?” Nene asked in
wonderment, brushing tears away and scratching the feline behind her ears. 

	“Not from me,” the tigress gazed steadily into Nene’s eyes speaking
in a perfect imitation of her voice, “but from yourself. You have much to
learn Nene about yourself and about the world. You are one of the Folk,
you carry the changing blood of warriors in your veins.”

	“I......I......don’t understand,” Nene stammered, “this is just a
dream isn’t it?”

	“No Nene, this isn’t just a dream, the form you wear is just one of
many you can chose. You descend from the Kahn the hunters of forest and
jungle. You are one of the Bastet, the eyes and ears of Gaia.....”

	“Gaia??? Oh Mother Earth right?”

	“She is much more than that Nene, she is everything, the sum of all
creation, the whole of which we are all part. She is the delicate fabric
which we are sworn to protect.”

	“Protect from whom......what?”

	The tigress began to weave a story, spanning countless aeons of
time. The birth of creation, the time when spirit and flesh were one and
the time that they were agonisingly rent asunder. The Triat, the three
forces of creation that there once was, the Wyld the force of pure
creation and primal flux, the Weaver the force of order and logic and the
Wyrm the force of entropy and decay. In the beginning the Weaver spun the
Wyld into form and the Wyrm destroyed the excess, but the Wyrm got trapped
in the Weaver’s web and went mad threatening to destroy not just excess
but all of Gaia. The Apocalypse fortold a great upheaval where the Triat
would find a new harmony and the Wyrm would finally return to what it had
been before. She told Nene of the other shapeshifters, the two wars of the
Bastet, the War of Sorrow, when tribe fought against tribe and the War of
Betrayal when the Garou rose up against the others in a false jihad.
Finally she finished looking up at Nene solemnly. 

	“So you see, like the Garou you have a duty to make sure the Wyrm
never becomes as powerful as he once was.”

	“Well, how do I do that?” Nene asked a little awe struck, she
certainly didn’t see herself as the mighty warrior sort, “I mean I drop
the odd Boomer now and then, you know, but fighting evil?”

	“You already are fighting the Wyrm Nene, GENOM is his new corporate
arm.  By doing what you have been, you’ve been fighting the Wyrm
unwittingly for some years now. But beware Nene, the Wyrm nearly got his
claws into you, when you awake you will remember, evil is at its most
insidious when given a sugar-coating. Farewell Nene Romanova or should I
say Nene Silent-hunter-in-shadows.”

	“Wait I don’t know what you......” Nene began as the world around
her faded to black again. 

	Woah, what a wierd dream, she thought to herself as she levered
herself upright in bed. She stretched and glanced at the clock it read
9.30 pm, funnily enough she didn’t feel the slightest bit tired anymore,
in fact exactly the opposite. She felt alive and full of energy, she
positively bounced out of bed and headed towards the bathroom, shrugging
off the T-shirt as she went. 

	Once underneath the torrent of water she allowed herself to
luxuriate in the sultry blast. Hands idly stroking herself through the
suds she found herself thinking, not of the dream but of Mackie as she
started to feel warm inside. She’d always dreamed of a knight in shining
armour coming to carry her off, but he was just too much: tall, dark and
handsome, not to mention sweet, talented, and intelligent. She slipped
into the bath and rested her head on the tiles, rivulets of silver
cascading off her body. Suddenly a noise jolted her back from her
thoughts, a low hypnotic rumbling that reverberated through her sylphlike
frame. She looked down at herself in disbelief. She couldn’t remember
being this tall before! 

	Dashing out of the shower, she stood before the bathroom mirror.
Picking up a towel to wipe it off, she glanced suddenly at her hands,
where there were once nails, there were now small diamond shaped claws. As
she gazed up at her refelection, memories began to crowd in. 

	“The form you wear is just one of many.......changing
blood..........Bastet.........Kahn........changing blood........changing
blood.”

	She looked at herself in the mirror, her face was the same except
for the addition of elongated canines. Her ears had changed too, becoming
elongated and feline, and covered in short ochre fur. Her hair had changed
too, becoming a silky black streaked mane that flowed over her soft
breasts. Then she realised with a musical giggle what the noise had been,
she’d been purring! She stared at her reflection for a few moments and
imagined what she looked like before. In the mirror she could see her body
fluxing as she returned to normal. 

	“Well I’ll be.....” she began before freezing. Other memories were
surfacing like flotsom on top of the waves, the music, the insidious voice
that urged her to do Rik’s bidding, the party. The scenes playing in her
head seemed to be from soemone else’s point of view, not hers. Drinks that
tasted wierd but the others said were “just for fun”, a groping hand
slipping inside her top and then upbuttoning her jeans, then darkness. She
saw the leering face as the memory faded, a thin, pale youth with a shock
of green hair. 

	She snarled, a surprisingly deep, feral sound that seemed to come
from her toes. That....that.... words escaped her, when she thought of
what Green might have done. All she felt was rage, an all-consuming
inferno of primal anger that overwhelmed rational thought. She wanted to
kill that toad slowly for what he did to her, she wanted to mark the
length of his death in screams. Not only that but she had wanted to save
herself for Mackie. She hoped that all he tried to do was cop a feel,
otherwise she would have to get really nasty. Reining in her temper, she
stalked with predatory grace into the bedroom and changed. Grabbing a bag
she stuffed some trainers, underwear, T-shirt, jacket, and jeans inside.
Half way into her packing she stopped, something was in the bag, something
that glistened with an inner fire. She reached inside and pulled out two
blades. Each was about the size of a large bowie knife but were wavy like
a kris, eldritch runes were carved along the length of each blade. 

	“Where the hell did these come from?!” she wondered out loud. 

	Two soft voices whispered in her mind, “We belonged once to your
great, great grandfather, now he wants you to have them, as the carrier of
his legacy.”

	Nene balanced each of them in one hand, they seemed almost to have
been made for her; They felt perfectly balanced and ready to use. She
whispered a silent prayer to her ancestor, whoever he may have been,
before continuing with the packing. Once finished she gave herself to the
anger, and felt the changes wash over her like the tide. It wasn’t
painful, but curiously arousing in a way, the way in which her skin
prickled as fur sprouted, the tightening in her limbs as bone, sinew and
muscle increased. She looked at herself in the war form, although
muscular, she was still sleek, sensual and curvaceous, nine feet of
aesthetic, poised death. Picking up the bag in her paw she stared hard
into the mirror, and vanished. 

	************************************************

	Mackie was beginning to give up hope of seeing the others, when
the rest of the pack entered the bar. It didn’t take them long to find the
Ahroun and Mackie, they were loafing at a corner table, feet firmly
planted on it, and very uncharacteristically the only bottles that could
be seen littering the surrounds, were from orange juiceand pop. The others
ordering swiftly from the bar and joined them. 

	“Well did yer see the video then?” Jan-Anders asked the gathering
as they found convenient perches. For some reason the other clients didn’t
seem to want to be around that table and so the group were left in
relative peace. 

	“Damn right we did, and what’s the big idea huh? Runnin’ off and
havin’ fun without us, ‘kin good job Olaf could find you guys!” Vikky
grinned mirthlessly. 

	“Thought we’d scout the place out before the heavy brigade
arrived.” Mackie replied taking another swig from his bottle, “So what did
you find out at your end then?”

	“Well we pretty much know that Nene wasn’t in that display we saw,”
Axel replied after he had filled the others in on their findings, “seems
she crashed and was taken away shortly after the gig ended. Rikky boy left
shortly afterwards, which just leaves us with this Green dude, who seems
to be the friend that Olaf mentioned.”

	“Okay lets nail this Green fucknuts, and see if we can get any dirt
on Prick.” Jan-Anders stated bluntly as the others finished their drinks.
The pack trooped out of the bar, heading with single-minded purpose
towards Le Blue Smoke. If they had been a little more alert, they might
have noticed a shadow stalking with deadly languor up the fire escape of
the nightclub, pause by an open window, then dart inside. 

	************************************************

	Green listened idlely to the piercing notes of the sax, as it
drifted like smoke into his upstairs office come apartment. Loafing on a
bean bag, he took a long drag of the loosely rolled joint, waiting for the
pleasent anaestheitic effect to take hold. The lights of the apartment
were darkened, and through the slitted blinds, flashing neon hues painted
his skin in wierd tribal patterns like some strnge urban primitive. His
thoughts drifted back to the party the previous evening, pity that Rik
left before things really got underway. His only small regret was that the
cute redhead had crashed out before he had got the chance to fuck her. She
had felt tight enough to be a virgin, and looked ready to party though for
some reason, despite all the shit pumped into her, she kept on mentioning
some guy called Mackie which had turned her on no end. He had had one of
the roadies take her home in the end, the blood-curdling growls she was
making in her sleep had started to unease the other girls despite the fun
powder. A well perhaps she would be at another one of backstage “do’s”,
there would be other times. 

	“Hello there honey remember me?” a soft female voice enquired. 

	Startled Green twisted around eyes scanning the room in order to
find the owner. Unbelievably, sitting in the corner was the same cute
redhead, hugging her knees and apparently completely naked. Green stubbed
out the joint, that’s the last time I’m ever doing this shit he thought,
mouth going dry with lust. 

	“Y...you!” was all that escaped from his lips in a dry croak. 

	“Then you do remember me,” for some reason she seemed delighted as
she started to stand, “that’s good because I certainly remember you and I
want to know exactly what you did to me!”

	If this was some kind of trip from the acid he’d took earlier he’d
just have to ride it out, he’d had far worse one’s than this. He looked up
at her pale form as a flash of neon illuminated her face, she smiled lips
pulling away from elongated fangs, vertically slitted eyes narrowed on
him. 

	“Oh by the way Green, this is real,” she spoke softly, as she
padded towards him, “and so are these.” Blades flashed silver in the
darkness, glittering malignantly. 

	************************************************

	The pack trooped into Le Blue Smoke, Jan-Anders and Mackie at
their head. Despite it being supposedly a jazz club, it seemed to be more
of a narcotics den. Very few people paid attention to the music that was
being played, only the odd decadent couple, more intent on impressing
their neighbours than on anything else. The whole place had a mock Art
Deco feel, which extended to the polished brass fittings, floral prints
and sunrise Capiz shell lamps that ornamented the walls and tables,
casting a soft, lush light everywhere. Mackie didn’t like the feel of the
place it just seemed wrong to him, he turned to the Ahroun beside him
voicing his concern. 

	“Yeah I know kid, just be glad yer not a Garou this place stinks of
the Wyrm!” to the rest of the pack members the whole place stank with the
rank foetor of the Defiler, “Perhaps coz’ yer kinfolk like yer sister,
means you can pick it up too. ‘Cept you get it as a bad vibe.”

	“He’s up the stairs on your left,” Olaf whispered to the party,
“vell vot do you know it’s marked private, I’m so scared!” he concluded
sarcastically. 

	The guard standing behind the door barely had time to react before
a crushing blow to the base of the neck sent darkness rising up to swallow
him. Jan-Anders eased him to the floor and motioned for the rest of the
group to follow him. The others appeared from the darkness of the Umbra,
Vikky leading a slightly worried looking Mackie like a child. 

	“That’s the spirit world huh?” he whispered, “Nice place but I
wouldn’t want to live there, too many of them damn pattern wotsits!”

	“This is too quiet for my liking,” Jan-Anders hissed, “either he’s
totally fucked out of his shit-addled brains or he’s asleep. I would’ve
thought he’d have heard the guard at least. They proceeded up the stairs
slowly, everyone painfully aware of every creaking floorboard, even
breathing seemed to be too loud in the preternatural silence of the
stairwell. 

	As they arrived at the office door, it swung silently open, a warm
breeze ruffled their hair as they saw that Green had vanished. A quick
scan showed the only possible escape route, the window to the fire escape
was open and the Garou could just make out faint pattering noises, that
seemed to be leading to the roof, not to the trash strewn alley below.
Jan-Anders sighed deeply, then a familiar smell sent his mind reeling in
disbelief. Nene was around here somewhere, he tried to pinpoint the trace,
she smelt subtly different, sensual, deadly......... feline. It couldn’t
be, she wasn’t, but his olefactory systems told him otherwise. The other
Garou had detected it also, especially Olaf. 

	“Umm guys I think we now know why Nene’s immune,” Jan-Anders said
slowly, realisation dawning, “ shit, why didn’t I see it before!”

	“‘Cause she’s probably just changed,” Axel hypothesised, “before
that she’d have smelt like any normal human being.”

	“What the hell are you talking about?!” Mackie restrained the urge
to garb the Garou by the lapels of his jacket, “Whaddya mean Nene’s just
changed?! You mean she’s here now, she’s one of you guys too?!”

	“Kind of,” Jan-Anders replied as he headed to the open window,
“we’re not the only type of shapeshifter, you know that don’t you?”

	“Yeah, so what’s this got to do with Nene?”

	Jan-Anders looked at his young friend wishing there were a more
delicate way of putting it, “She’s a Bastet, a werecat, don’t know which
tribe but by the smell of things she is mighty pissed off.”

	Mackie sat on the nearest table, shock and disbelief warring on
his face. Why me, he thought, why goddamn me. He was jerked back to
reality by Vikky putting a sisterly arm around him. 

	“It’s not so bad,” she tried to console him, “she’ll just act a bit
more on emotion than she used to do.”

	“Well it does explain a few things,” Mackie said with a sigh, “no
more yo-yoing weight problems, flaunting herself a bit more, and
well.......ermmm” he looked a little embarassed. 

	Vikky smiled, “......and seems to be acting a little more romantic
around you?” she suggested. 

	“Err......yes.” he replied sheepishly. 

	“Uhh guys, I don’t wish to be a party pooper but should we take a
look at the roof?” Axel suggested, “I don’t know about you, but if Nene’s
around her first change, she’s going to need someone when she comes down.”
he looked at Mackie with that last remark. 

	“Okay folks let’s roll!” Jan-Anders dove out of the window and
started running up the steps. 

	************************************************

	Green lay on the rooftop coughing weakly, clothing and skin had
been torn to bloody streaks by that thing, whatever it was. Flaps of
flayed skin hung from his torso and limbs like a ghostly shroud. His mind
was numb, not from the substances he had taken but from its own
endorphins. The creature was intent on keeping him alive for now, that
much he was sure of. It loomed over him now, its golden orange fur spotted
with his blood, two inch sickle claws flexing from their sheaths. 

	“I only felt the goddamn redhead, that’s all dammit!” he moaned
into the gravel. 

	“You sure?” a soft voice growled thickly. 

	“I’m sure now leave me the fuck alone!” he tried to shout, but all
that came out was a hoarse whisper. 

	“Good.” Nene’s paw grasped the stricken dealer, she brought him
level to her face. She could see the primal fear that twisted his
features, then wrinkled her nose in disgust as she realised he’d watered
and fouled himself in fear. She brought her other pad in front of his
face, flexing her claws menacingly. 

	“Nene,” a familiar voice broke through her crimson thoughts, “let
him go, he isn’t worth the effort. C’mon Nene you know me don’t you?”

	Nene whirled to face the speaker, dropping Green to the roof
surface. It was a tall dark haired man dressed in black, behind him stood
four Garou who were also in Crinos form. They didn’t appear to be ready or
willing to attack, they were just stood there expectantly. The human
walked towards her fearlessly. 

	“That’s right Nene it’s me Mackie, you remember me don’t you?”
behind her there was a whimper as Green passed out. 

	A warm glow suddenly rushed through Nene’s body, it was him! How
could she forget her beloved! Before the Garou could react she had swept
an alarmed Mackie off his feet and had plastered him to her purring chest,
nuzzling him like a cub. 

	“Nene,” came a strangled voice, “.......need oxygen............”

	Mackie felt overwhelmed to say the least, her fur was so soft and
luxurious, and even in the so-called war-form he had to admit she looked
beautiful, an elegant, graceful killing machine. That was killing him with
kindness right now. 

	“That better?” a small voice inquired. 

	He looked down, then suddenly shut his eyes in total embarassment
when he saw the lack of clothing. Nene still had her arms wrapped tightly
around his chest and was sighing deeply, which enhanced her charms even
more. It was a few minutes before she finally let go and retrieved her
clothing stash. Mackie headed with her and Jan-Anders to the van, while
the others in the meantime removed Green from the roof, he would live for
now. Besides they had questions of their own to ask him back at the
studios. They were mostly soundproof so no-one would hear the screams.
Once inside the van, Mackie handed the keys to Jan-Anders and climbed into
the back of the van. Nene had nestled herself amongst the cushions there,
and was now lying on her back, toying with her mane of red hair while she
looked at the pair of them with luminous green eyes. As he climbed into
the back she snuggled up to him and started purring softly to herself. 

	“Could you drive, I’ve got to look after the Kitten back here.” he
wanted to take her mind off Dangerfield, Green the whole sorry mess. 

	“Sure no problem, I think I know the way;” then looking at Nene,
“You okay?”

	“I guess so,” Nene smiled up at him, “I still feel a little wierd
though.”

	Jan-Anders laughed, “Don’t worry you’ll get used to it, just start
to panic when it gets a lot wierd!”

	Nene didn’t reply, she had already wrapped her arms around
Mackie’s neck and was kissing him passionately in the back of the van.
Jan-Anders smiled to himself in resignation, how the hell was he going to
explain this one to Sylia?! 

	************************************************