by Jamie Davis
Clark had tried to help. Soon after she’d been bitten, he’d brought in the alpha from a nearby friendly werewolf pack. That senior werewolf, named Dameon, had told her the ability to resist the shift on the full moon would come in time, along with the ability to shift at will and to remain in control of herself while in wolf form. He’d even kindly offered for her to join his pack. He would take her under his personal care while she learned to deal with this massive change in her life.
“You’re not alone,” Dameon had said. “Living among the pack with me, and the others will help you realize this is just a new beginning for you. Your life doesn’t have to change all that much.”
“Thank you,” Taylor had told him. “I have a pack and a family here with my friends. I appreciate the offer, but for now, just tell me what I need to do to control this thing.”
Dameon smiled. His sad expression told her he didn’t expect her to have much success, at least in the short term. “You won’t be able to resist shifting the first time, or probably the next few after that. Don’t despair, though. Everyone learns to control it eventually. Plus, there’s an upside. You’ll regenerate from most injuries that don’t immediately kill you unless the injury is caused by something made of silver. Plus, you’ll rarely get sick from common viruses and infections that affect normal humans.”
“Great, so I get to be a man-eating monster who won’t catch a cold.”
Dameon’s eyes had narrowed at her words. “Mark me, girl. Even if you don’t come with me now and gain the help of the pack, you’ll still be held to certain standards. Should you decide to give in to the animal instincts within you, I’ll come back and end you myself.”
Taylor remembered the matter-of-fact way he’d talked about killing her as if she was a rabid animal or something. That had been over two months ago, before the first full moon after she’d been bitten. Her flippant comment had been in jest, and she’d been shocked by the angry reply. Now that she’d spent two nights as a brand new werewolf, she didn’t think her offhand words were so funny anymore.
All the more reason for her to learn to control this thing sooner rather than later. Dameon had told her it was unlikely she’d learn to control it by even the third full moon. She refused to accept that.
A surge of energy sent a ripple of pain through her bones and joints as they tried to accept the lunar magic and transform her. Taylor’s head rolled back, and she screamed at the ceiling. The sound that came out was more howl than scream, and she stomped on the feeling that she fought a losing battle.
There was no way she was spending another night like the last two times. She’d raced around the room, torn at the walls with her claws, and repeatedly rammed into the steel door in an attempt to break free. She’d been sore for days afterward, even with the ability to regenerate.
The worst part of it was being trapped inside her rational mind, held captive by the wolf that had taken over. She could understand why some werewolves had to be put down. The change and loss of control in the early shifts drove them mad. Once they could no longer control their rational minds, there was no hope they’d ever be able to manage their wolf identities.
That wasn’t going to happen to her.
She held onto her need to help Quinn and Clark, her family. They were her pack now. They all needed to fight back and avenge the death of their friend, Miranda, at the hands of that vampire. Taylor bit back a growl at the thought of what he’d done to the witch, and then she had to struggle to regain control. Thinking of Handon made her want to give in to the animal urge to shift and hunt. Taylor shook her head. No. There would be a time and place for that. She would be in total control when she did it.
Instead, she focused on remembering Miranda’s face, calling to mind the time the two of them had worked closely together to build the VR rig Quinn had used to track down the slayers. The two of them had become close, and Taylor missed the older woman’s companionship and advice.
She smiled at the memories of happier times with Miranda that flowed through her mind. As she did, the witch’s face became clearer. Taylor felt like she could almost reach out and touch her. It was as if Miranda stood there in the cell with her, and the witch’s spirit presence soothed her and helped her hold onto control over her lunar change.
“Thank you,” Taylor said, expressing gratitude to the memory her mind had constructed.
“You’re welcome, Taylor. You have the strength to resist. You just needed someone to encourage you.”
Taylor’s eyes opened at those words. They sounded real, as if the woman was in the room with her. Her eyes widened as they fell on the hazy, transparent apparition hovering a few inches off the floor in front of her.
“You’re not real,” Taylor said. “You can’t be.”
The apparition before her smiled. “Why not? Don’t you believe in ghosts?”
Taylor started to say no but shut her mouth. She hadn’t believed in vampires or werewolves either, and look where she found herself now.
Fighting back another wave of the moon’s tidal forces passing through her, Taylor gritted her teeth and asked, “Is it really you, Miranda? How can you be here?”
The spirit nodded. “I’m not sure how, but yes, it’s me. I was somewhere else for a time, although I can’t remember much about it. Then I was here tonight, watching you struggle with your new reality, and I knew I had to help you in some way. Something about your pain called out to me.”
“It was me. I tried to remember your face to help me focus on something that would give me a reason to retain control.”
Taylor stopped talking and hugged herself as the shifting power within her threatened to retake control. Her bones started to crack and bend and begin shifting.
She cried out, “I can’t stop it. It’s starting.”
Miranda came closer until she knelt right in front of where Taylor sat rocking back and forth, fighting to hold onto her human body and her sanity.
“Taylor, open your eyes and look into mine. You can do this. We’ll do it together, okay? I won’t leave until the moon sets. I promise.”
Taylor forced her eyes open. Miranda’s face hovered right in front of hers. The sad eyes held hers, and the ghost nodded. Something about having her close by helped Taylor resist the lunar surge. She held onto that added strength, forcing her shifting body back into its normal form. It took a few minutes, but with Miranda’s reassuring presence, Taylor felt like she could remain in control for the first time that night.
The peak of the moon’s tidal power began to wane after a while, and Taylor slowly regained full control, no longer needing the witch’s strengthening presence to help her.
Taylor lifted her eyes and looked around the room. Exhaustion gripped her. Strands of sweat-soaked hair were plastered to her head and face. Miranda’s ghost sat next to her now, leaning toward her, with spirit arms wrapped around her.
“Thank you, Miranda. Thank you for coming back and helping me.”
“I think you’re right—it was you who brought me back. Somehow you’ve gained magic of your own and not just the internal body-magic of a shifter.”
“I doubt it. I’ve been trying to find a way to cast the spells you used. We haven’t been able to send Quinn into the VR world since you died. I’ve searched for ways to do the magic myself and tried just about everything I could, without success.”
“And yet you summoned me here to this place to help you.”
“I’m not sure how. You know I don’t have any magic, not like you.”
“Sometimes great need can unlock powers within a person. I think the desire to control your change, coupled with everything else you’ve been trying to do, might have opened a conduit within you to access the natural magic all around you.”
Taylor wasn’t so sure, but she couldn’t argue that Miranda had appeared here somehow. Either that, or she’d gone bat-shit insane over the course of the night. There was only one way to be sure.
“Quinn and Clark will be so glad to se
e you’re back. They’ve missed you as much as I have.”
Miranda shook her head. “I don’t think they’ll be able to see me, at least not right away. We’ll have to find out. I’m as new to this existence as you are to yours.”
“So, there’s no proof,” Taylor said, her shoulders sagging.
“No proof of what? Me? That’s silly. I’m here. You’re not going crazy.”
“That’s what a crazy person’s imagination would say.”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. It’s not a good look on you. If you were crazy, you’d have shifted. You didn’t. You retained control. That means your mind is just fine.”
“So, what do I tell the others?”
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter if they aren’t able to see me. It’s up to you what you tell them.”
Taylor thought about what Miranda had said for a few minutes, sitting in silence in the cell with the ghost of her friend beside her. Then she said, “I think we’ll keep it to ourselves, then. For now, at least. I’ll tell them about you when the time is right—if it ever is.”
“That might be best,” Miranda agreed.
Taylor nodded. “Now that you’re here, you can help me with more than my monthly shifting issues. You can help me find a way to send Quinn back into the VR world. If I have opened a way to tap into magic as you said, I should be able to find a way to cast the spells needed to activate the tech-magic interface.”
“I can try. Those spells are very advanced. It might take you a while to master them.”
“I’m willing to work hard, especially if you’re here to help me.”
Miranda looked down at her transparent arms. “I’m fading right now. It takes a lot of energy to manifest like this. I have to go back and regain my strength. Will you be okay if I go?”
“I will. Thank you for coming to me. I feel hopeful now in a way I haven’t in a few months,” Taylor said. She paused, thinking of something. “Before you go, how do I bring you back?”
“I think the barrier between the worlds has been broken for me at this point. I should be able to find my way back. In the meantime, when you need me, just call out to me. I’ll hear you, and I’ll come as soon as I am able.”
“Then you go rest. I’m going to try to sleep, too. It’ll be a while before Quinn comes and unlocks the door. I don’t think she’ll be back from her patrol until at least sunrise.”
“Goodnight, Taylor. Rest well.”
“You, too.”
Miranda faded from view, and Taylor smiled. She lay on the padded floor, using her forearm for a pillow. The exertion of resisting the shift meant it didn’t take long for sleep to come, and it was the first peaceful rest she’d had in a long, long time.
Chapter Three
Quinn followed Clark’s car as it left the interstate about fifteen minutes west of Baltimore. She soon found herself on back roads on the way to the old abandoned state psychiatric facility, Spring Grove. Most of the grounds had been closed years before, and the buildings boarded up. They’d chosen a clinic building in the back corner of the sprawling facility. It was surrounded by trees and accessible from an overgrown gravel utility road no one used anymore.
She stopped in the road while Clark got out of his car and opened the rusted chain link gates for her to drive through. While she waited, Quinn checked on her unconscious passenger. She knew vamps could regenerate, but usually, that meant they had to feed. This one had nearly been killed by her Bowie knife, so Clark’s blow to his face was apparently enough to keep him knocked out until they could revive him.
Clark finished pulling the gates open and waved her through. She passed where he’d pulled up as he climbed into his car and followed her. She continued toward the building they’d settled into for their current safe house while the elder hunter stopped and closed the gates behind them.
Quinn got out and stood by the green hatchback with her hands on her hips. She stared at the unconscious vampire, trying to figure out what to do with him. Clark pulled up behind the building next to her.
He got out and pointed at the male vampire. “Take him inside and secure him to one of the tables in the main examination hall. I’ll take care of this other one’s body.”
Clark reached into the back and pulled the woman’s limp body out by her ankles. Quinn winced when her head hit the ground beside the vehicle, even though she knew she was dead.
“What are you going to do with her? We don’t have a shovel or anything.”
“We don’t need to bury her. I’m going to take her body to that field out back and leave her there.”
“Why would you do that? What if someone finds her?”
Clark stared at her in the dark for a second before he said, “Think, Quinn. What’s going to happen as soon as it gets light?”
It took her a second, but she nodded. “Oh, yeah. The sun. That’ll burn her to ash and take care of cleanup for us, won’t it?”
“Exactly. That’s also why we’ll interrogate him in the examination hall. The windows there are completely shuttered, so if we’re still chatting with him when the sun comes up, we don’t have to worry about him being fried. At least, not until we want him to be.”
“Gotcha.” Quinn leaned down and pulled the vamp out until she could get him situated over her shoulder and back. She used a fireman’s carry to get him into the building. It probably would’ve made sense for her to draw on some of her stamina so he wouldn’t be so heavy, but she had a lot of natural strength from her huntress genes.
Once inside, she secured him to the primary leather-topped exam table in the center of the circular hall. It had leather loops at intervals to secure arms and legs. Then, for good measure, she applied a final pair of straps around the guy’s neck and forehead. At least they would keep his nearly severed head from flopping around while they talked to him.
When Clark didn’t show up immediately, Quinn considered checking on Taylor. There was a sliding panel in the steel door to Taylor’s room, where you could look in on a detained patient safely. She decided against it, though. Clark would be angry if she wasn’t here when he finally decided to show up. Besides, Taylor was self-conscious about her transformation, and Quinn figured she’d want some privacy.
Quinn didn’t stop worrying about her friend, though. She hoped Taylor didn’t have too hard a time of it tonight. Dameon had explained to them that each subsequent change from human to werewolf and back again would be less painful than the last until it was only uncomfortable. He hadn’t let on how long that would take, but Quinn figured the third time around would be almost as painful as the first two.
Last month, Taylor had walked around with a vacant and hollow look on her face for several days after the full moon. She didn’t talk about it, but Quinn could tell that what had happened haunted her.
Clark came in while she was lost in thought, once again catching her by surprise. He called to her several times before she answered. “Quinn, what’s got you all wrapped up in yourself? You should be paying attention to make sure our guest there doesn’t get loose.”
“Sorry, I was just thinking about Taylor. I wish I could help her in some way.”
“You’re still blaming yourself for her getting bitten?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Stop it. She knew what we were up against, and she decided to come with us and not stay in the car. In the end, she knows she’s damned lucky.”
“Lucky? How can you say that?”
“Why not? She could be dead like Miranda. You know as well as I do it was pure dumb chance that Handon chose to kill Miranda and not Taylor.”
“I should have done something to save both of them.”
“You did, at least for Taylor and me. Miranda was dead before you could have done anything to change it. As it was, you managed to do right by her. We got her body out of there so she could be buried decently and not just dumped in a landfill or the harbor by Handon’s goons.”
Quinn shook her he
ad. No matter what Clark said, she wouldn’t stop blaming herself and wishing she could’ve done better. She knew at some level he was right, but that didn’t take away the guilt she felt inside.
“What about this guy?” Quinn asked. “He hasn’t moved since I got him out of the car.”
Clark smiled. “I’m about to teach you a little vampire first aid. Pull out your knife.”
Quinn paled, thinking he was going to ask her to finish cutting the guy’s head off or something. She did as she was told, though. Holding her knife, she walked over to join him beside their prisoner.
Clark was doing something with his hands by the side of the vamp’s slashed neck. Then he reached up and used his hands to open the vamp’s mouth. “Take your blade and cut your palm, just deep enough to draw some blood.”
“Ew, why?”
“Because you’re going to feed him just enough that he heals a little and wakes up.”
“That’s gross. Why don’t you do it?”
“Because I’m the boss, that’s why. Besides, you’re probably more his type.” He chuckled at the pun. “Don’t worry. It won’t take much. Hunter blood is supercharged, as far they’re concerned. A little should go a long way to getting him to wake up enough to answer our questions.”
Quinn looked at her knife. She knew the blade was sharp. She’d gotten good at putting a razor’s edge on it, and she worked at keeping it perfect. Holding up her right hand, she laid the knife against her palm and drew it down in a single quick stroke.
She hissed in pain as the blade painted an instant line of red, the blood welling up in the shallow gash. Closing her fingers into a fist, Quinn turned her hand and squeezed while she held it over the vampire’s face. Several large drops fell into the open mouth.
Clark nodded and pulled out a rag out of his jacket pocket. “That’s enough. Here, use this to stop the bleeding.”
Quinn pressed the makeshift dressing against the wound as she stared at the immobilized vampire. A few seconds later, the tongue moved inside the open mouth and reached out to flick the single drop of her blood from his lower lip.