Devil's Dream

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Devil's Dream Page 7

by Shayne Silvers


  I frowned as I realized that the foul stench seemed to be growing stronger with each breath, and I found myself staring down into the darkness of the alley. I narrowed my eyes as it suddenly hit me. The stench was familiar.

  Beneath the putrid smell of decay and rot of damp trash and overpopulation, I smelled wet fur.

  Nosh noticed my attention and immediately cursed. “Werewolves. Degan never mentioned this was their territory. How the hell did they find us so fast?”

  I slowly shook my head. “Doesn’t matter,” I said, staring into the darkness. I couldn’t see them, but their scent was undeniable. Even to Nosh, apparently. I cocked my head, focusing my senses through the hubbub of horns. I reached out and immediately felt two thunderous heartbeats. They were hiding behind a large metal wagon that was overflowing with garbage, huddled close together. I pointed. “Two of them. There.”

  Nosh nodded. “Behind the trash dumpster,” he growled, “trying to hide their scent. We should get out of here. They’re not attacking, so maybe they are giving us the option to leave.”

  I smiled, not looking over at him. “It is far too late for that, Shaman. Watch out for the other two coming up behind us,” I told him.

  “What?” he hissed, spinning. “I don’t see anything. Can you sense them?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet, but they always move in groups of four or more, and their typical tactic is to flank and catch their prey on two sides. They will be close. I’ll scratch my head if I sense them.”

  Nosh grumbled unhappily. “I’m not scared of a fight, but if we’re in their territory,” he said, pointing at a blue marking on the wall of my Grand Central Terminal, “then fighting these wolves will only bring the rest of their pack down on us. We have to move at least three blocks to reach neutral territory.” He cupped his hands around his mouth, speaking loudly and amicably. “Our mistake! We didn’t realize where we were! We’ll be leaving now!”

  I studied the blue marking curiously. It was a crude crescent moon drawn in blue paint. Definitely a territory marker. I frowned at it thoughtfully. Then I scowled at a sudden realization. “It seems we have a misunderstanding,” I murmured under my breath.

  Nosh gripped my arm. “No, Sorin. Not a misunder—”

  I shook free of his grip with a snarl. Then I cleared my throat and held out my arms, taking two powerful strides towards the werewolves. “Territorial challenge!” I shouted out to them.

  Nosh cursed.

  A wolf howled in the distance.

  Then another.

  I smiled and bent down low enough to touch the wet stone. I used a claw to score a line in the ground, straightened, and then clasped my hands behind my back, staring towards the dumpster with an expectant grin.

  Two huge men stepped out from the shadows, glaring at me as they advanced in long strides. They were bearded and built like blacksmiths, proving they didn’t need their werewolf forms to deliver a lethal beating. The moonlight glinted off their eyes, and I welcomed the familiar gleam of the Grim Reaper’s scythe.

  It reminded you that you were still alive.

  I glanced back at Nosh. “This is how a child became a man in my day, Nosh. A man would never let another man claim his territory. Ever. And Grand Central Terminal is mine, remember?”

  He muttered something that sounded unhappy, which made me happy. “I hope you enjoyed New York,” he muttered. “We can kill a lot of them, but reinforcements are inbound.”

  I snarled with an expectant grin, rolling my neck to the left and right, and extending my claws with a thought. “Maybe they will be amicable to negotiation. They could even be friendly. Allies.”

  I actually felt excited at the thought of gaining allies so soon upon waking. If vampires and werewolves were sworn enemies like Deganawida had claimed, then I could explain the situation to them. Werewolves were exceedingly intelligent and well-spoken, only resorting to anger at personal offenses.

  Reasonable creatures.

  Except I really did need to address the illegality of their territorial claim, which would certainly put a strain on any potential alliance.

  Nosh scoffed incredulously. “Werewolves are not friendly. Ever. You fucking lunatic. Whatever you think you know from your past existence you need to forget it. Or talk to me about it ahead of time. If you think werewolves are anything but blood-crazed, psychopathic thugs, you’re delusional.”

  I frowned. “Well. One Shaman and a vampire should have no problem taking down a few werewolves,” I said confidently.

  “You’re fucking insane, Sorin. You’re going to get us killed long before we make it to Dracula.”

  I knew I wasn’t back to full strength, but long before I’d become a vampire, I’d learned to hold my own in a street brawl. Of course, that had been against humans—when I was a child.

  Not werewolves.

  This little scrap would give me the chance to confirm just how powerful I was. And how useful Nosh was. How much I could rely upon him. Testing a man in battle was the most honest way to judge a man’s character.

  And after my long slumber…

  I needed to work out some stiff muscles.

  10

  The two werewolves stopped on the other side of my line, studying me up and down with strange looks on their faces. I smiled, dipping my chin but not breaking eye contact. “My name is Sorin. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, however unfortunate the circumstances.”

  The taller man glanced at my bare feet and lack of shirt again. “Stevie,” he said, drawing out the word as if he suddenly had doubts about our confrontation. He was bald-headed with startlingly blue eyes, and his thick, iron-gray beard stretched down to his chest. His arms were easily as thick as my thighs

  The shorter man had wild, greasy brown hair and his beard was patchy and unkempt. He sneered cockily, showing off a crooked row of teeth. “Ralph,” he said, puffing out his chest and then pounding his fist against it in an aggressive manner. “And who the hell is that?” he demanded, pointing over my shoulder.

  “That would be my associate, Nosh,” I said, choosing to focus my attention on Stevie rather than the hot-tempered fool. “He’s pleased to make your acquaintance as well.”

  Ralph glared at me, rising up on his toes. “And is he unable to speak for himself?”

  I shook my head, still staring at Stevie. “No. But when he speaks, things die,” I said conversationally. Stevie’s eyes widened as he grunted in surprise, eyeing Nosh with more concern than a moment ago. I sensed Nosh’s pulse double and had to bite back a smile. “Also, he has no qualms with you,” I added.

  The pair focused on me, and Ralph clenched his fists with a toothy, maniacal grin. “Oh yeah?”

  I frowned at him for a moment, wondering if he was drunk. Stevie elbowed him sharply before shooting him a stern glare. He’d obviously caught on that Ralph was quickly becoming a liability.

  “And you do have a problem with us, I take it,” Stevie said neutrally, looking amused.

  I frowned, glancing down at the line I had drawn as if to make sure it was still there. “Of course. That is what the line is for—your safety while I present my legal challenge. I’m sure we can discuss this in a civilized manner. Like gentlemen.”

  Ralph took an aggressive step forward, but Stevie grabbed his sleeve, stopping him short. The constant eye contact was truly agitating them—especially Ralph—so I kept at it.

  “I wasn’t aware that this was a courtroom,” Stevie mused, caressing his beard pensively. He was obviously in charge, and the more rational of the two. Where Ralph hoped to intimidate me, I was fairly certain Stevie had picked up on the serious danger I represented.

  “Wherever two or more men meet may become a field of judgment—a courtroom or a field of death. I suggest we consider this a courtroom.”

  Stevie grunted. “I like that. But I think I already have a verdict.”

  I sighed disappointedly. “I’m afraid that is not how it works.”

  “Just let me kill
him,” Ralph snarled.

  Stevie glanced over at him with a resigned weariness in his eyes. “You do see the line, don’t you?”

  “I don’t give a fuck about his line, boss!”

  I saw the exasperated look in Stevie’s eyes as he finally had enough. “As you wish, but I’m staying here,” he said tiredly. And he was staring into my eyes as he said it. I got the message.

  Ralph lunged forward to tackle me. I remained motionless until the moment he crossed my line. Then I took a single step to the side, unclasping my hands from behind my back.

  In one swift motion, I severed both of his wrists with a downward strike of my claws. He stumbled forward as his hands flew and blood spurted into the air, gasping as the pain finally registered in his brain. I swung my hand upward like I was intending to uppercut his jaw, but I left my claws outstretched rather than making a fist.

  My claws tore through his throat and out the back of his neck, decapitating him instantly. His body struck the ground in an undignified heap, and his head rolled into a puddle, his eyes blinking once.

  His hot blood had sprayed over my face and I shuddered, forcing myself not to lick my lips in front of Stevie. I managed to control my lust and remained motionless as I locked eyes with the boss. “I warned him about the line,” I said dryly, pointing at the line I had gouged into the ground. “I told you that I wanted to have a civil discussion. And you’re welcome.”

  Nosh’s pulse had grown calm, all of a sudden, which was an interesting development. Only the bravest of warriors grew calmer in the heat of actual combat, letting me know that he would be perfectly dependable as a partner. The best kind of ally I could hope for, actually.

  In my raised hand—like I had caught a falling apple—I held the dead werewolf’s throat and part of his severed spine. It steamed in the cool, evening air. Blood dripped down my claws and wrist as Stevie stared from it to my face. Although he knew he had enabled Ralph’s last ignorant act, he still looked surprised that it had happened so incredibly fast and with practically no effort on my part.

  In fact, Nosh hadn’t even attempted to help me. I glanced over to see that he actually looked incredibly bored, with his arms folded across his chest.

  I turned back to Stevie, dropping the gore and shaking my wrist clean as best as I could. “Now, can we get back to our polite conversation?”

  He blinked at me, and I could see his mind racing—but not with fear. He was calculating odds and probably his inbound wolves we had heard, wondering how best to handle this situation. “This just became complicated,” he finally said. “My wolves are going to see Ralph dead and me speaking to the enemy.”

  I sighed. “I’m sure we can explain it to them. And by we, I mean you. Since you’re the boss and I was merely trying to have a cordial conversation with a future ally.”

  “That’s a strange word for a vampire to use with a werewolf, but I’m listening. Talk fast. The smell of blood travels quickly, vampire,” he said, and I could tell he was struggling to hold himself together—to not shift. “You mentioned a territorial dispute.”

  I nodded and pointed at the Grand Central Terminal behind me. “This is my home. I’ve lived here ever since it was built, but I don’t get out very often.”

  He glanced at the colossal building, scratching at his beard. “You live here?”

  I nodded. “And I would like to keep it that way. I actually prefer having you control the territory around my home. I would even be willing to help you defend it, if necessary. But this building,” I said, pointing again, “is mine. Does that sound fair?”

  Stevie had a truly bewildered look on his face. “Let me get this straight. You, a vampire, want to live in the middle of werewolf territory, and you’re willing to help me defend it?”

  I nodded. “Precisely.”

  “That’s insane. Vampires aren’t allowed anywhere in the United States by order of the werewolf council. The Crescent would kill me.”

  “It seems the vampires are doing whatever the hell they want, right here in the United States, as a matter of fact,” Nosh said calmly. “Despite the noble laws of the Crescent.”

  Stevie shot him a stern glare.

  Before he could respond, I cleared my throat. “I might be a vampire, Stevie, but I can guarantee that I am no friend to other vampires. In fact, I wager that I hate vampires more than all your werewolves combined. All the werewolves in the Crescent, even.”

  He grunted, staring at me in disbelief. “No way.”

  I shrugged. “Head through that door and track my scent. You’ll find two dead vampires who tried to kill me in my sleep,” I said, shrugging. “In fact, I came out here to see if they had any friends lurking about. I didn’t know I was in werewolf territory until I met you.”

  “It’s true,” Nosh said, shrugging.

  Stevie studied the two of us, shaking his head. “This is insane. I can’t make that kind of decision without consulting the Crescent. And besides, their laws don’t even allow you to live in the country, let alone here.”

  I considered his words. “What if I spoke directly to the Crescent and told them my story? That I want to side with the werewolves and hunt vampires.”

  He stared at me with a stunned look on his face. “You would be willing to personally talk to the Crescent?” he asked incredulously. “A pack of werewolves who hate all vampires?”

  I shrugged. “If they are willing to hear me out, sure. We share the same enemy, after all.”

  He scratched at his ear as if he hadn’t heard me correctly. As he did so, his eyes settled on Ralph’s dead body and he cringed. “Well, that’s not going to help matters. Not at all.” He let out a long sigh. “Although I consider it a favor, to be honest—”

  He cut off abruptly, his gaze jerking over my shoulder as he let out a vicious snarl.

  I spun in time to see a large, fully-shifted werewolf skid across the ground before slamming into the wall. Judging by the trail of blood and the lack of movement, the werewolf was already dead.

  11

  Werewolves came in all shapes and sizes when they shifted, but their overall structure was always the same. They stood upright like a man, but they could drop down to all fours and run as fast as a horse if necessary—which meant that they walked rather strangely when standing vertically, like they were creeping up on you. Their heads were entirely indistinguishable from a real wolf, but the rest of their bodies were primarily human—just much more muscular and hairier than before shifting.

  It was a relief to see that some things hadn’t changed from my time. Since I hadn’t seen Stevie or Ralph shift, I hadn’t been sure until now.

  Two extremely tall, pale men entered the alley. One of them was dragging a second fully-shifted, brown werewolf by the scruff of his neck. He bent down and calmly snapped its neck. Then the two men began swaggering our way, and I instantly knew they were vampires. I had been so distracted by my talk with Stevie that I hadn’t even sensed their approach until their grand entrance. Or my powers hadn’t been strong enough to sense them, which was concerning.

  “Well, well, well,” the skinnier vampire said, looking like he had absolutely no meat on his bones. “What do we have here, Gabriel?” he asked his partner, staring directly at me.

  Gabriel had messy blonde hair and looked scrappier. He narrowed his eyes, also staring at me—as if Stevie and Nosh didn’t even exist. “Looks like a traitor, Alex, although I don’t recognize him. Must be from out of town.” He cocked his head. “He smells old,” he added in a warning tone.

  Alex—apparently—sniffed disdainfully. “I don’t care where he’s from or how old he is. He should know better than to consort with—”

  “I did not give you permission to talk,” I interrupted in a cold tone. “Wait your turn.” Then I calmly turned back to Stevie, who was panting furiously—torn between his rage at the dead wolves and disbelief that I was picking a fight with the vampires. I nodded reassuringly. “I told you they don’t like me. On a positive not
e, it looks like we might have found Ralph’s killers,” I suggested with a faint grin. “If you’re willing to set up that meeting for me.”

  He gave me the barest of nods. “Deal.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” Alex demanded in a sputtering shout. “Do you have any idea who I am?” he roared.

  I calmly glanced over my shoulder and met his eyes. “You’re dead, of course.”

  Before I could follow up on my threat, Nosh clapped his hands together and bellowed out a chilling, animalistic roar—a sound no human should have been able to make. It was as if a great beast had just spoken through him.

  And then a damned grizzly bear of opaque, icy fog suddenly appeared in front of him between one moment and the next. Nosh began to chant loudly, clapping his hands and dancing with a savage grin on his face. His eyes seemed to glow with the same light as the bear’s form.

  I’d never seen Deganawida do anything like this. Not even close.

  The vampires forgot all about me as they stared slack-jawed at the spirit bear towering over them—easily twice their height. Then they each pulled out short metal sticks and pointed them at the bear. I frowned, thinking the weapons looked vaguely familiar for some reason.

  A sudden cacophony of thunderous booms exploded from the handheld weapons and I snarled, crouching down with a hiss. Guns! I’d never shot one before but the sound was unmistakable. They’d obviously improved them over the years, because both of them let off half a dozen shots each in the span of a few seconds—no reloading necessary.

  Nosh continued singing as he began to run towards the vampires in a zig-zagging motion. The bear lunged forward with a feral roar and tore one of the vampires in half.

  He didn’t even have time to scream. His partner grunted incredulously, pointing his gun at the apparition, his eyes wide with horror as more explosions rocked from the surprisingly small weapon.

 

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