10. Mason.
Damien eased the black van into a tight parking space as I peered outside. It was my fourth time outside, undercover as a normal civilian. I did that from time to time, so I could relate to the issue my people were facing.
Damien popped the handbrake, activating the parking brake and stared at me. "I repeat for the hundredth time, I don't think this is a good idea, my Lord."
I arranged my hood and stared at him, a hint of amusement playing in my eyes. "You are always complaining, Damien. A few years with me and I haven't influenced you enough?" I pulled open the door and stepped outside. The scent of fresh bread wafted past my nose, from a nearby bakery.
"My lord, your mask!" Damien gasped and scrambled out the other side.
I stared around, and aside from the civilians walking around without a care for the world, I could see my protective detail watching me a hundred meters away. I rolled my eyes and shook my head; they could have been less obvious about it.
"My lord, your nose mask!" Damien whispered.
I collected it from him and placed it on my face. "Where's yours?" I demanded.
Damien wore a cap and promptly arranged it as if he were delivering a statement. "I already have it covered."
"Wait, that's it? Never mind." I walked five steps and turned back to him. "And tell the snipers on the third building to hide a little. The trained eyes would figure out that someone important was in the area with all my trusted guards out watching me."
Damien looked up and cussed silently. "Forgive me, let me take care of that." He held his left ear, where his communication device was and muttered rapid orders.
I smirked at him and continued walking, going past two arguing couples with a smile on my face. I enjoyed this part of my duty, reconnecting with the city and being able to walk through the city without getting mobbed by the civilians.
"I take my eyes off you for a second and you are already off?" Damien caught up, looking very uneasy. "Why don't you let me inspect myself?"
A valid point, but I also liked walking in the city sometimes. But I obviously wouldn't say that to Damien, right?
"There are some things my eyes see, which yours don't."
"What? Just tell me you like walking in the city, my Lord." Damien shook his head, hating himself.
We stopped in front of a traffic light. Across the road, several workers were working on a gas line, their superhuman strength enabled them to lift some of the large pipes without the use of machines.
The gift of being a werewolf.
I pointed at it. "They are still working on that section? I appreciate them using their hands, but it's safer to use machines. Are they forgetting that werewolves also feel pain? Tch!" I crossed the road as soon as the light turned red for cars, and green for passengers.
"There was a little setback, my lord. The machines we ordered got sabotaged in transit—"
"Sabotage?" I glanced back at him.
Damien clenched his jaw. "Probably mountain bandits tried to steal it but failed miserably and decided to cripple the transport."
"Then why am I learning of this now?" I rubbed my face and sighed. "Why?"
"I'm sorry my lord, I just thought—I didn't want to bother you."
"Come on, Damien. Bother me? It's the people's well-being we are talking about here." I was a little irritated at the news but there was work to be done. I walked up to the workers, with my mask on. "How far gone are you guys?"
A group of hefty men, with large arms stared at me like I was some sort of alien.
"Excuse me, what—who are you?" A large man, with a large moustache and a large cigar at his large lips slowly made his way out of the group, with a large wrench in his arm. Everything about him was extraordinarily large.
I slowly removed the mask I wore, revealing my face, and it took five painful seconds for someone to recognise me before I returned it.
"Holy Goddess, it's the alpha—"
"Shush!" Damien silenced them.
"I'm sorry, my lord, I didn't recognise you there." The large man apologised.
"It's nothing. The more time we waste here, the more days households wouldn't be able to get some heat for warmth and food for themselves." I stared at the large pit in the middle of the pavement. "How fast can we get a new machine?"
"I had to say..... a day?"
"Make that four hours. This work has to be done quickly, and don't worry about pay. I will make sure you get extra bonuses if you can finish it before the end of the day."
The men looked amongst themselves and cheered happily.
"Four hours?" Damien whispered in my ear.
"A problem?"
"I will just try and deliver it through the fast routes," Damien said.
"Let's head to the city square first, I want to watch the work from there." I pointed at the large Victorian-like building, which served as a cultural centre as well as the city square.
We crossed to the other side of the road and continued walking. Everything seemed normal from what I could see, until someone deliberately walked into the middle of the road into oncoming traffic.
The scene was so out of place that Damien and I stopped talking and watched how it played out.
Standing three vehicles away, the mysterious figure was a man in his early thirties, with a large black coat and eyes that indicated he hadn't slept well for days. He was dead still, at the centre, eyes darting everywhere.
The motorists blared for several seconds, until a few annoyed drivers stepped out of their vehicles and
"Hey, what the fuck!" An annoyed driver rolled up his sleeves as he tried to take matters into his own hands, but the madman had started smiling, a toothy grin from end to end, a creepy scene.
Something was terribly wrong, and I could feel it. This man's vibe was off, he knew what he was doing. I stepped forward, my instincts kicking in.
I threw my nose mask. "Everybody, step back!—"
In a split second, the man raised his hands up holding two halves of a grenade. His scary eyes went to me and he cackled. "Long live the Obsidian Order!" He smashed the two pieces together, and an explosion rocked the square.
I was lucky enough to jump into a Café on the side as projectiles flew everywhere. I crashed into a desk, feeling as if some parts of my shoulder were cut through as I rolled on the floor.
It was all over in a second, and a smoke-dust particle mixture was in the air. The sharp ringing in my ears started to subside as the pressure within my ear canal had started to balance out.
"My lord! My lord!" Damien's voice echoed. His head appeared above mine.
"Argh!" I groaned as I sat up with his help.
"My lord!" His voice was clearer now. "Are you hurt?" He patted me down, looking for potential injuries.
I coughed twice. "I'm fine, what the hell?" I looked around. The damage to the Café was incredible even as the explosion was thirty meters away.
I immediately got to my feet. "Fuck, the drivers!" I rushed outside. I could hear screams and see the people running outside.
Damien scrambled after me. "Wait! My lord, you shouldn't be moving—"
I stopped in front of the Café, my hands curled up in a fist. Nothing, nothing remained. It was all blown to bits; cars, drivers and all—Except a large pit in the middle of the road.