His eyes flash, and he transforms into a werewolf. The process only takes a few seconds. It’s astonishing and repulsive all at the same time.
Quickly, I fire off a shot, but it goes wide.
The wolf knocks me down, and my gun skitters out of my hands. The silencer on my gun doesn’t completely silence the sound, and my ears are ringing. Or maybe that’s because I just took a paw swipe to the side of my head.
It’s impossible to get the wolf off from on top of me, so I reach down and yank hard on its tail. It yelps and goes to bite me.
I duck my head as if I’m a turtle and then slam my head up into its shoulder. The wolf falls to one side, and now, I’m able to push him up and off me.
From there, I dash over to recover my gun. The wolf is right behind me. I can feel the gust of wind created from another swipe, but I’m too far ahead. In one smooth move, I grab the gun, pivot around, aim, and fire.
It takes two bullets to fell the wolf.
His body twitches, convulses, and reverts to human.
What the hell?
Werewolves are real?
Chapter 5
That night, I drive to the massive Grand Lake. I sneak and dump the bodies, the vampire’s and werewolf’s. Grand Lake St. Marys State Park is a site that Lizbeth has been begging me to go. Little does she know the number of bodies I’ve disposed of here.
Typically, I try to burn the bodies of my vampire victims. I don’t have a spot here in St. Marys to destroy a corpse so the lake will have to suffice.
Although I’ve been here for three months, I don’t have a place here. I don’t form roots. I go from city to city, town to town, leaving nothing behind, not even vampire bodies.
I’ve never wanted to grow roots.
Until now.
I park out front of Lizbeth’s apartment and sleep in my car. Try to sleep, that is. Werewolves. I can’t believe it. A human. An animal. A human-wolf.
Should I feel guilty for killing it? I could’ve aimed for its leg. I could’ve questioned him. Found out if more are nearby. If werewolves are anything like real wolves, they’ll live in packs. I know better than to hope that he’s alone.
So I rest with one eye open, listening, wary, anxious, worried. When the sun rises, I feel a little better. Not well-rested, of course, but I’m ready to ignore vampires. To ignore werewolves.
To get on with my life.
Quick as can be, I leave and drive around until I find a jewelry store that’s open. I don’t want to take too long, but I don’t want to rush. Lizbeth isn’t just an ordinary girl. An ordinary diamond wing will never do.
One ring catches my eye. The stone is beautiful. It looked like an emerald.
“Oh. Very rare.” The jeweler nods, picking up the ring. “An alexandrite. It changes from the day to the night, from emerald to ruby. Well, it’s only the color that changes, but it’s actually more valuable than—”
“I’ll take it if you have a ring in a size five,” I interrupt his spiel.
My Lizbeth has long, thin fingers.
He rings me up, and I race back to Lizbeth’s apartment. Shortly after we first started dating, Lizbeth had an anemic attack, for lack of a better word. She’s probably still sleeping. I can cook up a meal, and then I’ll propose.
The perfect plan.
Too bad I never learned to not plan anything because nothing ever goes accordingly.
Chapter 6
The moment I open the door to Lizbeth’s apartment, I know something’s wrong. It’s a Saturday morning. Most everyone should be sleeping yet so it’s not strange that no one is up and about.
The strange heaviness to the air, though, that’s weird. The hair on the back of my neck rises. I never draw a gun in a public space where I might be spotted. Man, I sure am tempted to now though.
Considering that I just killed a werewolf, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Dismayed, maybe. Fearful? Yes. Worried. Definitely.
Angry? That depends on what I find.
My gaze darting all around, I make my way up the stairs. The stench of wet dog fills my nose as I creep down the hall to her room.
And that’s when I inhale the tang of blood.
A devastating pit forms in my chest, and I can’t breathe. I dash to her room. The door is ajar.
Lizbeth lies on the ground. Half of her furniture is overturned. There’s been a fight.
With a clear loser.
“No!”
I collapse beside her and pull her onto my lap. My trembling fingers feel for a pulse I know won’t be there. Blood soaks through her chest. Her clothes are ripped to shreds.
Carrying her, I stand and glance around at the chaos. There’s no sign of a forced entry by the front door despite it being ajar. Lizbeth is too trusting. She hardly ever locks up at night.
The forced entry point is in her bedroom. She’s on the second floor. There isn’t a fire escape nearby. The window had been broken open.
Tenderly, I lay Lizbeth on her bed and notice something clutched in her hand.
Fur.
Mouth dry, I walk over to the window and glance at the side of the apartment complex. There are strange markings along the brick.
Like claw marks.
Werewolves. Wolves. Dogs.
They can smell.
They smelled me on her.
They killed her because I killed on of their own.
It’s my fault she’s dead.
Dismay. Guilt. Sorrow. Grief. I’m a thousand different things. I can’t process them all. I can’t accept this. No. No! I refuse to believe this. She can’t be gone. She can’t have abandoned me. She’s my light…
My light has been extinguished.
She’ll never call me Blake. Worse, I broke my promise to her. I never got around to making her breakfast.
If I’d been here, if I’d been focused on the present instead of the future, I could’ve saved her. Or died too. Either way, I would’ve been with her. Dead or alive, we would still be together.
I cradle Lizbeth in my arms again. Tears rain down my cheeks and fall onto her face. I might mumble apologies. I’m not sure. I’m a chaotic ball of fury, anger, pain, and sorrow.
The crushing blow of despair and depression knocks me down like they’re a massive tidal wave. I drop to my knees, still holding her tight. This is why I didn’t want to let anyone in. This is why I was a loner for so long. I wore my isolation like a cloak. It kept my heart safe. Hell, it keeps me safe.
But then I met Lizbeth. She wormed her way into my life and into my heart, and I hadn’t looked back.
Now, because of me, she’s gone. The one victim I can’t accept. The one I never wanted to become a victim. This pain is paralyzing. I can’t breathe. I hate myself for having left her unprotected. I’m devastated that they hunted her. I’m… I’m not even sure what I am.
When I squeeze her tight against me, the ring box falls out of my pocket. I lay her back down and retrieve it to realize what fell is her cell.
My fingers fumble, and I drop it before I can actually pick it up. It takes me three tries to unlock it.
Guess what she had been doing when she’d been attacked?
Looking at wedding dresses.
For some reason, the tears stop falling. I carefully remove the ring box and put the ring on her finger. Tenderly, I place her right hand on her chest, the left on top. Then I kiss her, first on the lips and then on the forehead.
“I will always love you, Lizbeth,” I murmur. “I hope, wherever you are, that you can one day forgive me.”
Chapter 7
Without looking back, I leave Lizbeth. I leave all sense of hope and love and joy.
I leave with only hatred, anger, and frustration.
It’s suicide, what I have planned. It’s dangerous. Foolish. Reckless.
It might even mean I’ll end up dead.
Maybe that’s what I want. I’m not even sure anymore. As much as I try to feel numb, to isolate and distance myself from my emotions, that’s j
ust not happening.
The police will discover her body soon. Her neighbors will be questioned. My name will be brought up. Brian Drake has to die alongside Lizbeth Knight.
In death do us part.
I go to my car, strip out of my blood-soaked clothes and change into my last clean shirt and jeans. If I survive, I’ll have to buy more clothes. I go through them too fast between blood or getting them torn during battles.
Battles. Not fights. This is a war.
My car starts immediately. Hopefully, Lizbeth permanently fixed whatever had been going on because I do not want to get stranded anywhere.
I return to the nursing home and flirt with the receptionist. It’s a desperate attempt to see if anyone matching the description of the werewolf I killed came in recently.
“A week ago,” she says.
She’s older with white hair that looks almost powder blue under the florescent lights. Her wrinkles deep as she smiles at me, her blush hardly visible beneath her mountain of makeup.
“Stanley Morris. A good guy. He was trying to get his grandmother to be transferred to another location.”
My ears perk up hearing that.
“Where to?” I ask casually.
“Somewhere in Moulton.” She shrugs. “It’s not as if that’s far away. Only five miles. I can’t imagine what they would have that we don’t. We offer the finest of care—”
“I know you do,” I say. “Thank you.”
“Leaving already?” she calls.
I offer her a wave but say nothing further.
If this Stanley is from Moulton, there’s a good chance his pack is there so that’s where I’m heading.
Chapter 8
Dual silver knuckles? Check. Silver stakes? Five. Guns? Two. Silver bullets? Ten.
I have no idea how large the pack is. Maybe this is overkill. Maybe it’s nowhere near enough.
All I know is that if I die tonight, I’m not going to be the only one.
Actually, it ends up not being tonight. I drive around and try to learn where Stanley worked, who he was friends with. Despite my efforts, I don’t learn who might be werewolves and where they might be hiding.
I guess I’m not cut out to be a detective after all.
For a week, I stalk the town. I probably smell. I haven’t had a shower since before my date with Lizbeth. I don’t care. I’m a man on a mission.
The night of a new moon, I’m driving near Sixmile Creek. My windows are down. I’m shivering so much my teeth are chattering.
Finally, I hear another noise. It’s so. Faint. Not at all like you would expect to hear from a wolf.
But it definitely is a howl.
And it’s definitely nearby.
My heart races at that repulsive sound. I’ve found them. I’ve found the repugnant monsters responsible for killing my girl.
Without hesitating, I stop and park right there in the middle of the street. My silver stakes are in a belt. My guns are already loaded, my silver knuckles on. I’m a-gearin‘ for a showdown.
Opting to leave the car running, I slip into the shadows. I keep my eyes open so they’ll adjust to the darkness but use my ears to guide me. There. Another low howl. To my left.
I slip forward through the trees and halt behind one.
Six wolves are drinking from the creek. They’re all of a similar size and build to the one I killed.
No way are they just wolves and not werewolves.
One slips away to the trees to the left. Maybe to tinkle.
Slowly, I make my way over to him and stab him in the back. He dies and falls without so much as a whimper.
One down. Five to go.
Not too much later, two get into a tousle, playing around. Disgusting creatures. They’re more animal than human. It’s almost sad to realize that such things exist. I won’t feel guilty or remorseful at all to kill them all.
Another one breaks off and heads my way. They moment they cross the first line of trees, I shoot him between the eyes. At least I think it’s a him. Maybe it’s a her.
Down she goes.
The two keep fighting, and a third joins. The last one, though, stares me down and howls.
Damn. I’ve been caught. I waste several bullets before I take that one down.
The other three charge me. I manage to grip two stakes and bury one into the first werewolf.
But that doesn’t stop him from.
He struggles to bite me. I slash his ear with my other stake, grab the other, and swing onto his back. I bury the stake into the back of his neck.
He collapses.
The last two are on me. One knocks me down. The second lays a heavy paw on my shoulder.
What is with them and pinning me down?
Saliva drips onto my cheek. Gross. Are they gonna try to eat me? Vampire or werewolf, I am so not letting that happen.
I can’t really wind up much since I’m pinned to the ground. Still, I punch the one wolf as hard as I can on the snout. It howls and snaps at me, forcing the other wolf off my shoulder.
If I can just get another stake free…
But I can’t.
Wolf B just can’t let Wolf A have me. These are the two who had been fighting each other from the first. They’re already bleeding, although I’m the one who drew blood from Wolf A’s snout.
They’re howling and snarling at each other, ears back, lips curled. Wolf A backs away from me to circle A, and I slowly reach for another stake.
Wolf B is on top of me in a flash. My head whips back and connects with the ground. Damn, does that hurt!
Fright threatens to emerge, but I damper it down and focus on my anger and rage instead. I kick Wolf B in the teeth so he can’t bite me. Despite the pain coursing through my body, I stand.
Wolf A bats at Wolf B. They’re standing shoulder to shoulder, glowering at me, hatred in their matching golden eyes.
I have one stake out. No time to get another. One gun’s empty. The other is gone. It must’ve fallen during the fighting. There it is. Beside another fallen wolf. Behind the two live ones.
Gotta make a choice. Who falls? Who has the better chance of killing me?
I throw the stake like it’s a spear. It spirals and lands right in Wolf B’s eye.
He growls and falls, twitching.
Wolf A is on top of me immediately.
I punch, uppercut, throw hooks, again and again. My arms are sore. My feet keep dancing backward as the wolf advances. His fangs clip me more than once. His nose, cheeks, chin, and upper lip are all torn apart. It’s impossible to stay who is bleeding more.
He retreats a step. I dash forward, winding up for a blow to his temple.
My feet fly out from under me. The blood pooling beneath us makes me trip. Luckily, I land flat on my back.
Unluckily, the werewolf is on me. His jaw chomps and chomps, coming closer.
With one hand, I force his mouth shut as much as possible. My free hand grabs another stake. I might have one more. I’m not sure. The wolf shakes free of my hold, his teeth coming nearer…
I shove the stake up through his mouth.
The werewolf collapses on top of me.
He weighs as much as a mountain. I don’t have the strength to push him off. It’s possible I even pass out. Eventually, I manage to roll onto my back, and I slowly, inch by inch, crawl out from beneath him.
I retrieve all of my weapons except for two stakes, the one in the wolf’s eye and the last one. They’re too firmly embedded for me to yank them out, even if I use a foot for leverage.
Back in my car, I drive away and don’t look back. I’m not sure where I’m going next, but it’s not gonna be anywhere in Ohio, that’s for sure. I might have some good memories there, but, no. Just no.
Werewolves. They’re repulsive, disgusting, vile monsters. They should’ve gone after me. They never should’ve touched a single hair on her head!
Anger has my foot pressed down hard on the gas. I need as many miles between them and me as possible. M
aybe I’ll head south. Yeah. I know a doctor in Tennessee. Hopefully, I’ll reach his clinic. He won’t ask questions. Just hope he has a lot of A+ blood on hand.
So much for peace. So much for stopping my quest.
And despite the werewolves going after Lizbeth and murdering her, my quest remains unchanged.
I will continue to hunt vampires until one kills me.
Or I kill them all.
Whichever comes first.
Before that, though, once I’m doctored up, I’m finding the Laundromat and getting the blood out of the jean jacket. Yes, I have a trench coat. When it’s no freezing out and even in the summer, I want to wear that jean jacket.
I want to keep a piece of Lizbeth with me.
Always.
Other Books By Nicole Zoltack
Bedlam in Bethlehem
Cops plus Supernatural Creatures
When Vamps Bite
When Wolves Howl
How to Stake a Vampire
How to Fuel your Revenge in the Summer of Magic Anthology
How to Enjoy a Fang-Free Vacation in the Wicked Magic: A Badass Collection
When Sirens Screech
Once Upon a Darkened Night
Twisted Fairy Tales
Of Cinder and Madness
The Cost of Love
The Cost of Grief
The Cost of Power
Of Slumber and Discord
The Cost of Magic
Of Rose and Cruelty
The Cost of Rage
The Cost of Treachery
The Cost of Enchantment
The Cost of Forgetfulness in Anthousa, Xanthousa, Chrisamalousa, a Primed Fairy Tale
Of Bones and Ashes in Twisted: Flipped Fairy Tales
Of Gold and Deceit
The Cost of Dominance
The Cost of Intolerance
Magic Incarnate
Magic + Faith + Teens
A Question of Faith
A Matter of Doubt
A Balance of Power
A Journey of Despair
How to Slay a Werewolf (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 5) Page 2