Later that day, she suggested getting back out. In particular, Susan wanted them to go over to Fulton Empire State Park, maintaining that a walk would help her clear her mind. Having nothing better to do, Helena agreed. She had been there twice in the past and had enjoyed the experience.
The brilliant red, orange and pink colors of the sunset were up in the sky, when the two friends began their stroll. The park had not changed at all since her last visit. It offered an unobstructed view to Brooklyn Bridge. The Manhattan skyline in the background was getting ready for one more night. Some of the thousands of city lights in the steel towers were already on. Several benches lined the shore of the East River, offering visitors a chance to relax and enjoy the view.
“I miss him already,” Helena confessed, a female jogger running past her.
“It’s only natural, darling,” Susan commented, her tone mellow. “Give it some time. You’ll see you did the right thing.”
“Did I?” Helena wondered with a sigh. “I gave up on the one man who made me feel so alive. How is that right?”
“Listen, I’m probably going out on a limb here, but is there anything we can do to disprove that prophecy?” Susan asked, leaning sideways towards her.
“Like what?” Helena spoke faster than usual. “Tell the shifters to stay away from him?”
“Shifter,” Susan corrected her. “It’s Michael he should watch out for, isn’t it?”
“I can’t make him do that, Susan,” Helena stated, a seagull flying overhead. “My dear old daddy killed two of his own. You don’t know that, but it took me five months to speak to him again. I just…” She paused. “I just wish we’d gotten together sooner.”
“Why do you say that?” Susan inquired, her tone deepening.
“Because we’d be in love by now.” Helena retorted, glancing down at the freshly cut lawn. “Maybe he’d change his mind about the whole revenge thing.”
“As opposed to not being in love…?” Susan murmured, tipping her head up. “Hmmm….” She hummed. “I seem to recall a certain friend of mine crying her eyes out just minutes ago.” She tapped her fingers on her chin in mock skepticism. “Have you seen her, by the way? 5’6”, red hair, fair complexion?”
“Those were frustration tears, Susan,” Helena voiced her opinion, tightening her tone. “I want him too much, but I can’t have him. Has that ever happened to you?”
“Was that a real question?” Susan responded, a hint of anger in her voice. “I have met every guy you’ve dated in the past three-and-a-half years. You never shed a tear for them. Not one.”
“What are you getting at?” Helena posed a question, turning her head left to face her.
“I believe you rushed your decision,” Susan pointed out. “You judged him on something he hasn’t done yet, on something he might never do. Is that the way to treat someone you say you want ‘too much’? I don’t think so. I’d give him the benefit of the doubt if I were you.”
“So, I should wait for him to kill my father, and then break up with him?” Helena squinted; surprise written all over her face. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m asking you to use your head!” Susan shouted, halting beside her. “For the love of God, Helena…” She addressed her in a calmer tone. “You’re one of the smartest people I know. We read that prophecy together, we know when it will all happen. Couldn’t you suggest a romantic getaway with him a couple of days beforehand? He’s not exactly a busy man, and you’re not a model student, either. Do you think he’d say ‘no’ to that?”
“I guess not.” Helena heaved a sigh, running her hand through her hair. “You’re right. I didn’t think this through.”
“Thank you.” Susan smiled and bowed before her. “You know, I should be mad at you for not consulting with me first. But, since I’m a nice person, I’m going to let you off the hook. For now.”
“Ms. Nice Person, I’m going back to Highland at the end of the week,” Helena announced, a small smile bursting upon her lips. “Please, do me a favor: Don’t come with. I got myself into this mess. I must try to get out of it alone.”
“If that’s what you want, sure.” Helena shrugged her shoulders. “Do let me know how it went, though. You guys look great together. I’d hate to see you break up for good.”
“So would I, girl,” Helena admitted, nodding at the same time. “So would I.”
Waves of sadness and regret had been rolling through her, before she even spoke those words. She had wronged Michael. And this rush to judgment hadn’t led to a mere quarrel. It had led to a breakup. In her despair, she had sent away her savior. She had even failed to notice that he had bothered to ride all the way to New York and spend the day with her. Still, this wasn’t the first time he did that. And deep down, Helena wished it wouldn’t be the last…
Chapter Sixteen
Michael
Two days passed since Michael’s trip to the city, but to him, they felt more like two months. A nasty, familiar feeling had crept into him, making every hour of those days seem like torture. Loneliness. Of course, it was no stranger to him. Yet, there was a big difference. Prior to meeting Helena, he was alone out of choice. Now however, that loneliness had been forced upon him. Worse than that, the woman responsible for it was the happy witch who had barged into his life. She was the last person he expected to do that. Helena had refused to give up on him, even though he insisted they shouldn’t date. Still, it was her who decided to break up with him. Was this how women thought in general? Was it just a witch’s whim? Whatever the answer to that question was, it didn’t matter to him. They were apart. Searching for an explanation seemed trivial.
In his sorrow, he shifted to his wolf form at night and went out into the forest. Striding through the wilderness was one of the few things that could give him some peace of mind. Hanging out with his buddies wasn’t going to help him forget. They knew him too well. It was just a matter of time before they realized that something was wrong. They meant him no harm, but Michael would have to deal with sarcasm and irony coming from all directions. In his puzzled state of mind, he was guaranteed to snap at them.
That Thursday night, he returned to the place where it all began. The remains of the devastated windmill were still littering the forest floor. Moonlight was showing in scarce, dim patches through the trees, exposing plinths, shards of glass and chunks of concrete. For Michael, this was perhaps the only way to feel closer to her. He hadn’t dared calling her, fearing that hearing her voice would worsen his pain. Moreover, text messages were just too impersonal. Computerized fonts were incapable of portraying emotion.
Sitting back on his haunches, he sniffed the air, in an attempt to catch Helena’s scent. What he picked up though sent a wave of unease brushing across the senses bequeathed to him. The foul stench of death laced the air around him, forcing him to rise back up to his paws. A vampire was near. In the blink of an eye, a majestic howl resounded across the wilderness. Michael’s wolf lifted and drifted his head in the direction it had come from. It was the mountainside just outside Mercer, the place where he had witnessed the explosion that changed his life.
The wolf’s head whipped around to the rubble, the faint sound of fast footsteps confirming the identity of his foes. Vampires were infamous for being quick on their feet. That speed was what his own kind could not match. Two, red pairs of eyes emerged from behind the trees, making his blood pound in his temples. He let off a feral snarl, his eyes blazing in the darkness. All four paws bolted to the ground, ready to pounce, he watched them draw near, their faces paler in the moonlight. His deep bark ripped through the stillness of the night as their mocking leer tempted him to lunge and deal with them alone.
But Michael wasn’t stupid. Each of his enemies had the strength of five grown men. Assaulting one of them meant that the other was free to attack him. His gaze switched to the vampire across from him, and then, to the one to his left, the sound of his Alpha’s gallop growing stronger in his ears. By then, he could even pi
ck up Bruce’s snarls while he loped across the forest.
His bark was the signal he had been waiting for. Its volume told him that he wasn’t more than ten or fifteen yards away. Growling, he charged forward, his gaze locked with his rival. Bruce’s black wolf sped past him; the vampire’s fangs a sparkling white in the moonlight. Michael’s beast leapt towards his rival, determined to end that wretched creature. Yet, the vampire proved to be faster than he anticipated. A powerful blow to his stomach sent the gray wolf flying back across the woods. He landed hard on his right side and rolled in the direction of a balsam fir tree.
Two, thundering punches to the black wolf’s muzzle sent him upward, his agonizing yip filling Michael’s heart with dread. His muzzle crashed into a branch and clipped it off, his foe hissing with pleasure. Distracted by his comrade’s misfortune, the gray beast caught his adversary hurtling towards him, out of the corner of his eye. Their bodies tumbled to the ground as he sensed his arms gripping his midsection. The vampire trapped him in an embrace of death and rolled them over. Grunting in his ear, his foe was trying to squeeze the life out of him. Michael thrust his muzzle at his arm, one more left-and-right combination catapulting his Alpha over a bush.
Teeth and fangs ripped through the vampire’s shirt. In an instant, he felt the familiar coldness of his skin on his lips. Michael sank his teeth into his arm, his rival’s scream tormenting his ears. Undaunted, he jerked his limb in his mouth, the crunching sound of his arm ripping apart spurring him on. Jagged shards of ice fell off his jaw as the grip around him loosened. The gray wolf jumped off, turned around and then jumped back onto the vampire’s chest, his rival crying out in pain.
Wheezing through gritted teeth, he reached out his arm. To no avail. Michael lifted his leg and swiped his hand away, rage surging through him. He thrust his snout down, desperate to deliver the fatal blow that would put an end to this battle. His teeth scraped either side of the vampire’s neck, before plunging into his flesh. His foe’s arm dropped to the ground with a thump, hair-raising cries from the fight just feet from him rising above the fallen vampire’s squeals. The beast let off a ferocious snarl, fangs grinding against each other as they severed his enemy’s head from his body.
Hopping off the vampire, he faced his Alpha. Chunks of black fur had been scraped off the left side of his abdomen. He was slightly to the right, having trapped his own adversary’s head between his teeth, the vampire’s body lying on the ground. He reached up and grabbed him by the hips. The sight of his leader’s struggle compelled him to take action. As exhausted as he was, he had to get him out of his terrible predicament. Still, Michael wasn’t given the chance. He hadn’t covered more than four or five yards, when the stampede of his comrades persuaded him to stand aside. He looked over his shoulder, only to find Ray’s reddish wolf leading the charge. Their frenetic yips didn’t surprise him. They knew that they had the advantage in this fight. One by one, the wolves of Mercer jumped over him, small particles of mud falling off their paws and their furs as they did. Their bodies crashed against the vampire, pinning his body and his arms down on the ground. Finding himself free of his hold, Bruce barked and rushed off towards Michael. Blood was trickling out of a wound just below his eye and down his neck. The two of them resumed their human form, their fellow wolves dragging the vampire’s body across the forest floor.
“You’re bleeding,” Michael told him, throwing a swift glance over at the wound.
“It’s just a scratch,” Bruce claimed, his chest heaving with exertion. “Good job taking that bloodsucker out. I think I’m getting too old for this shit.”
“You had him,” Michael tried to reassure him. “He was down and…”
“Bullshit.” Bruce groaned, shaking his head in disagreement. “That son of a bitch was too strong.” He took a deep breath. “Look, kid… I just talked with the boys. If anything happens to me, you’re in charge.”
“Wait, what?” Surprise heightened Michael’s voice.
“You’re the next Alpha.” Bruce affirmed, assuming a stiffer tone. “You’re stronger, smarter and more composed than those degenerates. You’re perfect for the job.”
“Thanks,” Michael said, his voice coming out hesitant. “Anyway, how the fuck did these vampires get here?” He asked, extending his arms. “What do they want?”
“I don’t know,” Bruce was quick to reply. “I got a call from our scouts just after you took off. They’d spotted them in the woods. That’s why I got here so fast. Another scout rang Ray up and told him that there’s a group of them up in Constantine’s Peak, too.”
“Shit!” Michael barked out, his eyes flashing with anger. “Then what are we still doing here? Let’s go.”
“Hold your horses, man,” Bruce urged, his tone calm and steady. “We just got out of a fight. And we can’t go up there in wolf form, because we don’t know their numbers. Go home. We meet in the clubhouse in an hour.”
“All right,” Michael said with a nod. He had to admit that his Alpha had a point. They were both tired, and Constantine’s Peak lay more than six miles north of their current location. First and foremost, he needed to catch his breath. Nevertheless, Michael was still fuming with rage. The vampires had trespassed into their most sacred ground. Even if they claimed to be there for a noble reason—which sounded ridiculous—they had to be punished. And Michael was more than willing to take part in more battles that night…
Chapter Seventeen
Michael
Predictably, his encounter with his kind’s natural enemy reminded Michael of the last time he had fought against a vampire. It was amazing to think that he had slain two of them, just days after meeting Helena. In turn, a crazy notion flashed through his mind. What if those vampires were somehow connected? What if finding them in the forest wasn’t a coincidence? Michael didn’t have any memories of crossing paths with vampires. He had only heard of them and their tactics from Bruce. He had fought them more than twenty-five years ago. Why had they chosen to start a dispute with the shifters now, of all times?
At any rate, this wasn’t the time for speculation. Michael had a major task ahead of him, which required total concentration. He couldn’t afford to ask questions that he couldn’t answer. The ones who could answer them were in the hallowed ground of Constantine’s Peak, and he doubted if they were willing to engage in conversation with him.
Michael left his cabin, but, as he made his way to the clubhouse, he discovered that something was very wrong indeed. Instead of a rather peaceful street with little traffic, he saw dozens of his kind blocking the road. As a matter of fact, the crowd was so big that he was forced to park his motorcycle more than a hundred yards away from the building. Baffled, he strode off, wondering why his fellow countrymen had gathered like that in the middle of the night.
His query found an answer in seconds. A single word dominated their chattering: Vampires. It became clear to him that news had traveled fast. The whole town had been made aware of the threat and was waiting for their leader to take action.
Pushing his way through the crowd, Michael swept the hangar. Other than three, disassembled motorcycles, he didn’t find anybody. He turned left and swung the front door open, the chattering behind him getting louder. Bruce was pacing up and down the hall, while the rest of the members of the motorcycle club were talking to one another.
“Good, you’re here,” the Alpha praised, patting him on the back. “Let’s roll.” He added, shifting his attention to Ray.
“Just three of us?” Michael complained, his friend knuckle-fiving him.
“That’s right,” Bruce affirmed. “Remember kid; we’re not going there to fight them. If we sense something’s wrong, we haul ass.”
“Goddamn everything will be wrong,” Michael grumbled, following them outside. “We’re going up against bloodsuckers in our own turf.”
He might have waited for Bruce’s response with bated breath, but his remark was met by silence. Instead, his Alpha halted halfway through the hangar an
d turned to him.
“Go tell our people that. Come on, go ahead,” Bruce dared him. “Go tell them we’re fighting vampires tonight. How many have the heart to volunteer? Twenty? Thirty? Fifty? Okay. Then what? We go into battle? Fifty of us against God-knows-how-many bloodsuckers. Wait, it gets better. How far is Constantine’s Peak from Shandaken?”
“Half a mile,” Michael lowered his voice to a mere whisper, comprehending the recklessness of his suggestion. The human town was much too close for comfort. It was late, yes, but the noise they would make was not going to go unnoticed.
“You’ll be Alpha someday, kid,” Bruce told him, raising his tone. “Learn to use your head first.”
Michael preferred to keep his silence. Besides, he had nothing more to say to him. His Alpha was right, and he was wrong.
One after the other, the three shifters rode out of the hangar, the crowd staring at them and calling out their names. Michael could understand what they wanted from their leader, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Bruce meant to address the issue, but, if they lingered there, they would have to satisfy everybody’s curiosity. They had wasted enough time already.
The three motorcycles sped up the last hairpin of the road to Mercer and turned left into the main road to Shandaken, Michael looking up at Constantine’s Peak. Its rugged edges were gray under the glow of the moonlight. Taking advantage of the emptiness of the road up ahead, he didn’t avert his gaze, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Still, this was hopeless. Just like shifters, vampires were good at keeping a low profile.
Minutes later, they were crossing the scenic town of Shandaken. Small, cozy houses, old barns and smoking chimney tops would make an outsider think that it was place lost in time. Michael wasn’t an outsider, though. He had spent large portions of his life in Shandaken, playing with his human friends. He considered it his second home and loved it with all his heart.
Raging Wolf: A MC Werewolf Romance Page 9