How to Live and Die in Crescent Rock (Crescent Rock Series)

by Bree Wolf

  “Mister, are you alright?” she called, her voice weak and scratchy. “Can you hear me? Are you alright?” Her hands started shaking. “Please, be alright,” she whispered to herself as she knelt down beside him. “Please, be alright.”

  Whoever he was he looked alright. There were no visible injuries, not even a scratch. His very much up-to-date clothing was not in disarray and his hair looked almost stylish. By normal standards, this man shouldn’t be lying in the middle of the road in the middle of nowhere, but maybe snoozing in some college class or lounging in a café, sipping coffee.

  With trembling fingers, Quinn felt for his pulse, trying very hard to remember what Coach Grainer had told them about CPR. She placed her fingers on his neck just above the jugular. His skin felt a little cool to the touch, but what sent shivers down her back was the fact that she couldn’t detect a pulse.

  Sitting back, Quinn stared at him, feeling completely numb. When would she wake from this nightmare that seemed to be getting worse with each day?

  But unfortunately today wasn’t that day.

  Suddenly the man’s eyes jerked open and in one fluid motion he almost jumped to his feet.

  Startled beyond her ability to cope, the shock flung her backward and she rolled over, scraping her left elbow on the asphalt. With eyes fixed on the man, Quinn scrambled to her feet, still swaying.

  For a moment, she felt a hint of relief. But the emotion was quickly replaced by a darker one of foreboding. Something was wrong. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but every fiber of her body told her that something was very wrong.

  While her eyes staring at him held shock, his staring back at her where filled with some sort of amusement, glee even. But not the teasing kind she saw so often in Arnaud’s eyes. This kind was wicked as though he was pleased by her distress, even enjoyed it.

  “What…what is going on?” she stammered, slowly retreating. “You’re…you’re alright. Are you alright? But…?”

  His mouth turned into a smile then, but it held the same unsettling amusement as his eyes. “You’re concerned about me,” he said, shaking his head laughing. “How ironic!”

  A sense of déjà-vu came over her. His whole demeanor reminded her of Mr. Sanders. Not the friendly teacher, but the cold-blooded killer.

  Abruptly his laughter stopped and his eyes narrowed. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” He took a step toward her. “It’s yourself you should be worried about.”

  Staring at him, Quinn felt paralyzed. Her body however instinctively fell into retreat mode as suddenly his upper lip curled back and his fangs shot out.

  “Oh crap!” Quinn cursed, the blood draining from her face as realization hit her right between the eyes. With a clear-headedness that surprised her, she knew that the man standing only a few paces in front of her wanted her dead. Like Mr. Sanders had wanted her dead. Only now there was no Arnaud nearby who would come to her rescue. Now she was alone.

  As he read the shock on her face, he laughed again, a sneer on his face.

  Keeping her eyes fixed on him, Quinn’s mind raced. She was in the middle of nowhere all by herself. Her cell phone was dead, but that probably wasn’t a real loss anyway – even if it hadn’t been, she doubted he would have let her place a call. Sunlight quite obviously didn’t harm him and from personal experience she knew that not even a stake would make a difference – even if she had one. What was left other than to just lie down and die?

  Her car was only a few paces behind her, the door still open. If she could make it, would she be able to outrun him? How fast was a vampire?

  Seeing her eyes shift, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a grin of sheer superiority. “You won’t make it,” he sneered. “Not even with a head start.”

  “Fine,” she snapped, surprised at her own boldness. “So what do you suggest?”

  She could see that her words startled him for a second. His eyes narrowed, running over her curiously before he shrugged and said, “You could surrender … or you could run.” Another sneer spread over his face. “Personally, I hope you’ll run.”

  Quinn felt every muscle in her body tense, urging her to do as he asked. She wanted nothing more than to turn and run. But she didn’t, sure that if she did she’d be dead in seconds. The other option was to surrender. The result however would be the same. And so Quinn decided on option three. How she was able to still think so clearly, she didn’t know. But her wits hadn’t abandoned her yet, keeping the rising panic in check.

  Again he eyed her curiously as she set her feet slightly apart for a stronger footing. She raised her chin, looking him straight in the eyes, her own unwavering.

  “Look, what we have here,” he mused. “A fighter. Do you think that’s smart?”

  Quinn shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. We’ll see.” Deep down she knew that once again the result would probably be the same, but that also meant that she didn’t have anything to lose by standing her ground.

  The only chance she had was getting to her car – although, she knew that even if she did, it might not make a difference after all. But it was her best option. Knowing how fast Arnaud moved, Quinn kept her eyes fixed on the vampire before her, careful to note any change in his posture as she took a careful step backwards.

  His brows rose as he grinned at her, telling her that he knew what she was up to. “Are you sure you want to do this? I promise I’ll kill you quickly if you give up now.”

  Quinn snorted. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  He stared at her, thunderstruck, and then started laughing. “You really got guts! If I didn’t have orders, I’d consider turning you.”

  Again Quinn took a step backwards, and his laughing stopped, eyes narrowing again. “So, you are really going through with this? Fine with me. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” In the next instant, he flung himself towards her with such speed that, to her eyes, his body became blurry.

  Ready to drop and roll to the right, closer to the open car door, Quinn suddenly heard a loud, metallic thud.

  In the next instance, a black blur flew through the air from behind her. The black blur intercepted the vampire in mid-air, throwing him back and they hit the ground about twenty feet away from her. As their movements slowed down, Quinn saw that the black blur was in fact a huge, black wolf.

  Tate.

  Her heart jumped as she recognized him, relief washing over her.

  Both wolf and vampire stood facing each other. Like her attacker’s fangs, Tate’s long rows of teeth showed as he growled at the vampire menacingly. His body tensed, ears laid back in warning, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. If he ever had, he sure didn’t look like a dog any more. He looked like the hunter he was.

  The vampire looked at bit surprised and less confident, but he didn’t back down. “Don’t go far,” he called to her, his eyes not shifting from the wolf. “Once I’m done with your little pet, it’ll be your turn.”

  Instantly, Tate attacked.

  Pushing himself off the ground with his strong hind legs, he jumped up high, trying to catch his opponent’s throat in his jaw. But the vampire pivoted out of reach, sending a violent kick in Tate’s direction. There was a low howl as the wolf hit the ground.

  Quickly, he scrambled back to his feet.

  Suddenly Quinn realized that by coming to her aid, Tate was risking his life. This was no uneven fight like when Arnaud had killed Mr. Sanders with no visible effort at all. Back then it had been vampire against human. Now Tate was facing an equal opponent and there was no telling how this would turn out.

  Again Tate charged.

  This time he faked an attack from the left, but pulled short and changed direction in the last moment, thus managing to sink his teeth into the vampire’s leg. He screamed, but with a swift kick the vampire once again sent Tate sailing through the air.

  Realizing that she couldn’t just stand by and watch, Quinn turned and ran for her car. She jumped in and, pulling the door closed, started the engine. She wasn’t
sure what she was going to do, but as a mere human she would be of no help to Tate.

  Quinn turned the car around, watching through the windshield as wolf and vampire had each other in a death grip, kicking and punching, biting and scratching. Like a ball they rolled up and down the road, sometimes almost indistinguishable from each other, their movements too fast for her human eyes.

  Slowly driving towards them, Quinn watched in agony as another pained howl from Tate reached her ears. They were only a few paces in front of her, when the vampire managed to wriggle out of Tate’s grip and, kicking him square in the chest, sent him flying.

  At the sight, Quinn’s heart skipped a beat, terrified for her friend, but seeing her chance, she didn’t hesitate.

  With Tate out of the way, only the vampire, slowly rising to his feet, blood flowing from numerous bite wounds, remained on the road. Instinctively, she stepped on the accelerator and the car shot forward.

  Hearing the engine rev up, the vampire turned to look into her direction. But it was too late for him to move out of the way. She hit him head-on, sending him flying down the road.

  But Quinn didn’t stop there. Again accelerating she raced after him and before he could rise to his feet, she ran him over, feeling her jeep rattle and shake at the bump in the road. The brakes screeched as she slammed onto them. Putting the car in reverse, she backed over his now seemingly lifeless body once more.

  As he lay in the middle of the road, motionless, Quinn stared at him through the windshield. Moments passed and he didn’t get up. He didn’t even move. But she stayed in the car, her foot on the accelerator, ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

  Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw the black wolf approach and heaved a sigh of relief. Limping slightly, Tate headed for the vampire, now looking like a bloody pulp, in the middle of the road.

  He moved carefully, but detecting no resistance, his jaw locked around the vampire’s throat, biting down hard. Quinn saw more blood well up, dripping into a small puddle slowly growing bigger. Holding down the body with his front legs, Tate started shaking his head, and Quinn suddenly realized that he was trying to tear off the vampire’s head.

  A disgusted shiver ran over her as with a sickening crack the vampire’s head suddenly came off. Slowly, it rolled a little down the road before it as well as the rest of the body suddenly disintegrated, leaving behind nothing but flakes of dust drifting away on a mild autumn breeze.

  The moment the threat disappeared, Tate collapsed.

  Quinn jumped out of the car, running over to him. “Tate!” He wasn’t moving, but his chest slowly rose and fell with each breath. As she knelt down beside him, he opened his eyes and looked at her.

  “Are you alright?” she asked, her eyes slowly gliding over the many cuts on his body. Here and there, his black fur was entangled and sticking together from the blood, still flowing freely from some of the deeper wounds.

  He didn’t answer her. He didn’t move. He just looked at her, but his eyelids seemed to be getting heavy.

  “I’ll be right back,” she told him, running back to the car. Opening the trunk, she grabbed the first aid kit and a water bottle her mother insisted they keep in both cars in case of an emergency. Especially in summer to avoid dehydration.

  When Quinn got back to him, his eyes were closed. It sent a shockwave through her that only subsided when she saw that his chest was still rising with each breath.

  Running her eyes over his body again, trying to determine which wound to attend to first, she was surprised to see that some of the smaller ones had already closed. Apparently, he too healed fast.

  But there was a deep bite wound on his upper front leg, still bleeding profusely, where a piece of his flesh had been torn out.

  Silently thanking Coach Grainer for insisting the cheerleading squad participate in the annual first aid training, Quinn quickly got some gauze and an antiseptic, highly absorbent pad from the first aid kit. With quick hands, she turned them into a pressure bandage, hoping it would stop the bleeding. She went about as gently as possible, but from time to time a pained yelped escaped him as she fastened the bandage.

  By the time she finished, the rest of the cuts didn’t look so bad any more. Most of them had closed and none was bleeding any more.

  Pouring a little water into her cupped hand, Quinn used her other to carefully lift up Tate’s head, urging him to drink. His eyes opened as he smelled the water and gulped it down eagerly. She repeated this until it looked like his thirst was quenched.

  Checking the bandage on his front leg, she was glad to see that only a little blood was oozing through the gauze. She had stopped the bleeding. Feeling most of the tension leave her body, she sat down cross-legged beside him, carefully brushing a hand over his head.

  Quinn didn’t know how long she just sat there, waiting. There was no way she could move him herself. He was too big and too heavy. Stretched out like that he was almost as tall as her. And so she kept on waiting, hoping that he would get better soon and be able to climb into the jeep himself.

  Now and then she wondered that no car was coming by, but maybe that was for the best. How could she possibly explain what she was doing there? And what would happen to Tate if someone actually did come by and call the police?

  It was long past noon when Tate suddenly lifted his head, looking at her, his eyes open and awake.

  “Are you feeling better?” Quinn asked, unable to detect any sign of the injuries he had suffered only a few hours ago. There was still clotted blood in his fur but the wounds had closed and were now completely gone. When Tate tried to get up though, he still favored his left front leg, telling her that the deep wound wasn’t fully healed yet.

  “Stay here,” she told him, easing him back down before rushing to the car. Driving over, she stopped right beside him, opening the back door.

  She helped him as best as she could, and Tate managed to climb onto the back seat, collapsing there, exhausted from the exertion and the renewed pain.

  Gathering up the water bottle and the first aid kit, Quinn got in the car and with a last look at the battle ground before her, drove down the road toward Crescent Rock.

  Chapter 24 – Werewolf 101

  Passing the city limits sign of Crescent Rock, Quinn quickly glanced in her rearview mirror when she heard noises coming from the backseat. Tate was awake and trying to sit up.

  “Are you alright?” she asked, turning onto Oak Lane, not in the least feeling silly knowing that he couldn’t answer her.

  “I’m fine,” suddenly came his voice, startling her and making the car swerve a little as she turned to look at him.

  “Careful,” he warned, voice light. “Really don’t care for more injuries.”

  She turned her eyes back on the road as Tate climbed into the front seat.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

  “It’s okay,” Quinn said, eyes shifting to him again and again. She had so gotten used to his wolf form that his human form seemed unfamiliar.

  Dressed in dark blue baggy pants, black sneakers and a khaki shirt with a zip-up sweatshirt, Tate settled into the seat, making himself comfortable, feet propped up on the dashboard. “Do you mind?” he asked.

  Eyeing him curiously, she shook her head.

  “Question,” she said after a while and he turned to look at her. “Okay, this might seem like a trivial question but … eh …how come you’re dressed? I mean, where did you get the clothes? You sure weren’t wearing them as a wolf. That, I would’ve noticed.”

  He laughed. “You’re right. Wasn’t wearing them. Let’s see, how can I put this?” he mused.

  This time it was Quinn’s turn to laugh.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Sounds like more Werewolf 101.”

  Tate grinned at her good-naturedly. “Got that right.” To her surprise, he held out both his hands, palms up, like she had the day before in Arnaud’s kitchen. “You were pretty close when you said you saw the wolf and
the human but couldn’t quite see them as one. Well, they are two separate individuals, that is true, but they are linked. Their souls, spirits or whatever you want to call it, they mesh, especially when you’re born a werewolf.”

  “What? There are different kinds?” Quinn asked, carefully trying to keep her eyes on the road.

  Tate shrugged. “Of course, you can be bitten. I guess that’s the most popular version.”

  “If you bit me, would I become a werewolf?”

  He nodded. “Does that scare you?” he asked, eyeing her curiously.

  Stopping at a red traffic light, she looked at him. “No, not at all.” She was absolutely sure he would never do that.

  Tate smiled at her. “Good. Well then, back to Werewolf 101.”

  Quinn held up a hand, stopping him. “Wait, were you born a werewolf? Or were you bitten?”

  “I was born a werewolf,” he said. “It makes it easier for the two personalities to accept one another because it’s never been different. It’s normal. When you’re bitten, the wolf is forced on the human and most people can’t take that. Especially because they have no idea what’s going on. They don’t know how to handle what is happening to them and eventually go mad. They lose their humanity and the wolf takes over completely.”

  “But that’s not what it’s like for you?”

  He shook his head. “No. To tell you the truth, I have no idea where I end and the wolf starts. For all intents and purposes, we are one being. We just didn’t start out as one.”

  “And what does that have to do with your clothes?”

  “Since we are two beings, we have two bodies. They are separate too and since they are corporeal, they can’t mesh. They stay separate.”

  “Corporeal?” Quinn asked, frowning.

  “They have a physical form that is fixed. It doesn’t change. It can’t,” he explained. “Both bodies exist at the same time, but only one can be used at a time.”

  “Okay,” Quinn said, having some trouble grasping the concept. “Then what happens to the other?”