Green - a werewolf story

39. Antebellum

They didn't stop for the night again on their way to New Orleans. Instead they took turns sleeping and driving. By the time they arrived Vanessa was so exhausted she could hardly stand up and much too tired to appreciate the sight of the city that had been her home for years.

"Abby and Ted's place is just fifteen minutes away," Green said and gulped down some more coffee. "We're nearly there."

He'd taken over the wheel two hours before when Vanessa had found herself nodding off. It was for the best anyway. Green knew where they were going and, more importantly, wouldn't be stopped and searched. To be completely honest, Vanessa knew where they were going as well.

The Thrall Estate was well known in the werewolf community. Packwolves, no matter what pack they belonged to, were hoping to someday get invited to go there, while loners went out of their way to avoid the place.

"Shouldn't we have passed some checkpoints by now?" she asked.

"I called ahead, they're expecting us."

"What if someone had forced you to make that call?" Vanessa asked.

"They have enough cameras and electronic equipment to see that I'm driving the car and that it's the car I told them I'd be driving."

Vanessa nodded and turned to watch the landscape they passed by, not really seeing it. Once upon a time, the Thrall estate had been a cotton plantation with slave owners so awful to their slaves even their contemporaries frowned upon them. Then one of the slaves were bitten by a werewolf and lived and... Well, she supposed the word "carnage" would best describe what ensued.

The name of the family who used to own the place had long since vanished, the former slave took the name Thrall, a variation of the norse word for slave, and established himself and his family in the mansion their and their friends' labor had helped build. They'd been there ever since.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Green asked as they crossed the small bridge leading into the estate.

"Yes," Vanessa said.

It was. The green fields, the mangrove swamps in the distance and the enormous white painted manor already visible from afar. The house was built in the antebellum style that looked absolutely gorgeous until you remembered the blood all that style had cost.

Though Vanessa supposed it was like that with most ancient architecture. Slaves built the pyramids and the great wall too. Even the railway network that was the foundation for the industrialization of the US was built by people who earned as little and was treated as poorly as slaves.

"What are you thinking about?" Green asked.

"Slavery," Vanessa replied honestly.

Green looked over at her. "Wow. That's dark."

"Yes, but look where we are."

"I take it you're familiar with the Thrall family history?" he said.

"More or less," Vanessa said. "I don't understand why they'd pick that name, though."

"To never forget," Green replied.

"But why norse?"

"Ah. You know, I've never asked," Green said thoughtfully.

"I don't suppose it comes up often in conversation."

Green shook his head. "You'd be surprised. The house is full of little shrines to former family members and Ted's grandmother talks about their history all the time. She's writing a book about it."

"A book?" Vanessa asked, shocked. "About werewolf history?"

"Why not? It's not like anyone will believe it's real anyway. Last I heard, she was halfway through her first draft. Hey, maybe she can hire you to do the editing?"