by Declan Finn
“He’s been bitten by a werewolf.”
Kalsey winced and tried to imagine what creature that Marco would turn into. Even by the standards of the general viciousness of the human race, Marco wasn’t someone Kalsey wanted to deal with. He and the human had never actually come into contact, but every employee who had gone near Amanda’s human had not survived the encounter.
Kalsey didn’t know what was worse: an out-of-control Marco as a shapeshifter, or an in-control, shape-shifting Marco.
“I presume you’ve already talked to Bosley?”
Amanda nodded. “I sent her a text message. I have yet to hear back from her.”
Kalsey snuffed the cigarette in an ashtray. “I’ll put out some feelers. See if we can get to him before tonight. I have some people in the minion community.”
“They have a community?”
Kalsey smiled as he pulled out a cell phone and started tapping out text messages. “Not everyone wants mindless slaves to do their bidding. Some vampires merely want capable employees who won’t be easily killed in the crossfire.”
Amanda nodded. It made a certain level of sense, after all. “Why are you doing this?”
Kalsey chuckled and didn’t even look up from the phone. “It’s my good deed for the day.” He paused and spared her a glance. “Believe it or not, when running a business, being a mediocre good is better for a vampire than being a mediocre evil. Good comes with fewer drawbacks, and evil doesn’t have enough positives when there are people like you crawling around out there.” He went back to tapping out messages. “Like Bosley says, sometimes being good is just being pragmatic.”
Chapter 29
Heart of Marco
Marco growled in frustration as he hung from the silver chains in the back room. His wrists hurt, his ankle hurt, and he desperately wanted to rip his restraints out of the wall and use them to beat one of these furry little bastards to death. In fact, beating any of them to death would be a good change at this point.
Marco glanced at the wall. It was noon, and he could feel his control slipping—over both body and mind. It had been hard to focus before, and he was even having trouble remembering parts of the conversation he’d only just had with Misha.
Except for Misha being possessed by Asmodeus. That part would stay with him forever.
God, thank you for not letting me try to hack into his brain like I did with his brother. I don’t want to see exactly what’s in this guy’s head right now.
“I hope you don’t mind an observation,” came a friendly voice with a mild Southern accent, “but it’s going to go badly for you if you didn’t change last night.”
Marco snapped in front of him, his eyes clapping onto a tall, fit fellow. He had slightly graying, neatly slicked back hair. His chin was covered with an equally gray beard. His eyes were a bright gray …
Just like the wolf that killed Yana. “Tully, right?” Marco drawled.
He smiled and nodded. “Yessir.” He pointed up and down Marco. “You didn’t shift last night, did you?” He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Sorry to see that. It’s going to be so much worse for you tonight.”
Marco ground his teeth together as his eyes narrowed. “Better to suffer this than have one of you bitches order me outside to play fetch with hand grenades.”
Tully blinked, then laughed, amused and a little surprised. “Wow. You can still make jokes. Congratulations. You should feel fortunate that you can even speak.”
Marco’s amused little smile came back. “Oh, I’ll show you how I feel. Just let me out of these, and we’ll have a conversation.”
Tully sighed, and shook his head, trying hard to be patient. “Pity you don’t know what’s happening here. Once the moon is up, you’ll do anything we say. And I mean anything. You’re barely even in control now. There’s nothing for you to do. No one resists an Alpha’s orders for their first full moons—even if they themselves are Alphas.”
Marco raised a brow. “So I heard. Why is that?”
Tully shrugged. “All manner of reasons. Some have never handled their dark side before. Some have never felt the need to restrain their darkness. And sometimes, it’s just a simple matter of becoming a feral quadruped. Some people can’t take it. But don’t worry. Nothing untoward is going to happen to you. We’ll just have you murder some people. No biggie.”
Usually, on a day-to-day basis, when he wasn’t being assaulted by a demonic dragon, shot at by minions, or batted around by a vampire assassin, the worst thing Marco Catalano had to endure was being bored. With a mind like his, he bored easily. It’s why he went for being a Physician Assistant instead of becoming a doctor—it was the same work in half the time. Even then, he read and understood the textbooks, and eagerly awaited clinical cycles of his education—the data was easy, the day-to-day was hard. His greatest challenge would be dealing with patients. It’s why Marco considered becoming a surgical PA—next to surgeons, who believed that “MD” stood for Medical Divinity, he would seem downright personable.
And then, Marco had been bitten by a werewolf.
On the one hand, Marco felt like he alternated between withdrawal and DTs. His innards twisted, as though knives were trying to work their way through his intestines. Were he more functional, he would have pondered how much of it was the lycanthropy fighting off the virus from Amanda’s blood, and how much it worked through his digestive tract. Or he would have considered that his body really was shifting and changing, and that included his insides as well. He hadn’t made the change during the full moon last night, and perhaps it was going to become even worse than the night before. But he could barely remember that Tully had already told him just that.
After hours of struggling, Marco had decided on an entirely different plan. One that he hoped he would still remember come nightfall.
Once he settled down, two of the lesser Alphas came in and plugged IV bags of nutrients into Marco’s arms. No one was going to get close enough to his teeth to try and feed him, but he would need plenty of energy and calories to go through another full moon. The only solution was intravenous feeding. Tully was the only one who seemed able to control him.
When that time finally came, Tully approached him. He smiled and nodded at Marco, respectful, even polite. “Evening, son,” he drawled.
Marco barely had the energy to give him a look.
Tully nodded, understanding. “Don’t worry. You’ll feel better after you have a nice meal. We’ll lengthen those chains, leave you alone in here with a pile of food. In about fifteen minutes, after you’re done with it, we’re going to take you for a test run.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed at him. “What test run?”
The convoy of werewolves pulled to a stop in the middle of Brooklyn. As much as they could have wandered the streets and no one would have noticed, at some point, somebody would have made mention of Marco being led through the streets on chains. Unless they were in Greenwich Village. So a collection of vans to carry the pack was best.
The lead van pulled in front of a dumpy little place off Manhattan Avenue, where all of the apartment building ran together as one massive wall with metal doors in the front.
Tully got out first and opened the back. Five of his associates held the chains binding Marco. The chains themselves weren’t silver. The silver around Marco’s neck, wrists and ankles was what kept him at bay.
Tully looked at Marco himself and smiled. The new lycan thrashed wildly, pissed off. That was good. If Marco had lost control of himself, it was easier for Tully to control him.
Tully pointed to Marco, then waved him out with one finger. “Come out.”
Marco led the way, the other members of the pack following him out of the van. Tully pointed at the bonds. “Remove the chains, leave cuffs on him, we want him to stay human. He doesn’t need to go full furry for a few humans.”
The thin one named John smacked Marco in the face. “Yeah. We’ll save that for your girlfriend.” He grabbed himself and smirked. “
Pity there won’t be anything left of her when you’re done. Otherwise, we’d get to play with her.”
Marco’s jaw snapped at John, and the shifter jerked back. Tully cuffed John upside the head. “Down, boy. That’s just rude. And you never taunt a new guy like that. He’s going to have enough trouble. And you’ll have the trouble if he remembers later on.”
John rolled his eyes. “He ain’t gonna live that long.”
Tully sighed and shook his head. Sometimes, they didn’t listen to anything but force.
Tully grabbed John by the scruff of the neck and hurled him aside. “Idiot.” He looked back. The chains were removed from Marco, his form restrained by the silver collar and cuffs. “Marco. Go through the door, attack everyone inside. Bring me their cell phones.”
Marco lunged for the door, crashing into the metal plate. He dented it, and burst through it.
In the dilapidated apartment, the men turned around—Hector Vega and Donald Tolbert were in the front room, taken aback by the assault. Officer Tolbert had his hand in his holster flap but hesitated when he saw Marco.
Marco didn’t hesitate.
Marco sent Tolbert flying across the room, through a doorway, deeper into the apartment. Marco whirled on Hector. Hector hels up his hands, backing away. “Hey, man, sorry about hitting on Amanda, okay?”
Marco only growled, jumping for Hector. He smashed his fist into Hector’s ribcage, then hurled him aside.
He grabbed the cell phones from both of them and left the two men behind.
Tully took a cell phone from Marco, and promptly restrained him again. The Alpha looked through the cell phone and found the one phone number Misha wanted him to text. Tully tapped out the message, which provided GPS location on Marco.
The label was “Amanda Colt.”
Amanda checked the GPS on her borrowed phone. As much as she didn’t like using expensive toys like this, the text message from Officer Tolbert had come with very specific instructions, including a GPS tag. So when the message came in, she had to use someone else’s phone to do it.
I just hope I don’t break this phone as well, she thought. Bosley may not like it.
The two text messages were particular, and she followed her instructions to the letter.
Amanda readjusted the large duffel bag over her shoulder as she looked around.
The location brought her to an alley. Which made a certain level of sense.
That the alley was in Maspeth also made a certain amount of sense.
She walked in and stopped.
The growl from behind her told her all that she needed to know.
Amanda turned as Marco charged into the alley. She looked into his eyes, and they gleamed a bright, shining gold. He sprouted dark red fur, his hands already claws.
Then the screaming started.
Tully smiled as he listened to the screams. He and his pack sauntered towards the alley. He hadn’t wanted Amanda to get spooked by the smell of werewolf pack, so they had stayed far away until she had been spotted.
When she entered the alley, the wolves removed the silver restraints from Marco, and his transformation started as soon as the final silver cuff came off.
Tully pointed, and Marco charged.
The screaming started shortly after that.
Tully smiled and waved for his men to stay. He jogged towards the alley to check on Marco’s progress. He stepped in front of the alley.
The dumpster came at him with the speed of a freight train. It slammed into Tully and carried him to the other side of the street, crushing him into the side of a building.
The werewolf named John blinked as his Alpha went flying out of the alley in short order. John loped forward, peeking his head around the corner. He saw exactly what he had hoped to see.
There was Marco Catalano, on the floor of the alley, curled up into a ball, crying his eyes out.
John smiled.
Amanda Colt was dead.
Chapter 30
Blow Your House Down
The werewolf named John looked around. It was thoroughly trashed. There had been pulverized brick from the impact of fists, body, and probably even somebody’s head. The trash cans had been, well, trashed—the metal ones had been flattened, and the plastic ones were just splinters and scattered trash. There were smashed wooden boards, and chunks of bricks ripped out and embedded in a few places.
It looked like a war had happened between a vampire and a werewolf, all right.
John frowned. There was one problem with the condition of the crime scene—one that he could not put his finger on it.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself. “Blood would blow away with the death of the vampire.” He sniffed the air as he walked closer to Marco, still weeping on the ground. He didn’t mind the lack of ashes, because it was an alley filled with garbage, not even his eyes or nose could detect the remains of a fireplace.
He discovered the problem. “Where are the clothes?” he asked, partially to himself, and partially to Marco.
There wasn’t a scrap of fabric around the alley, anywhere. No shredded clothing from Marco’s transformation, no clothing left behind by Amanda dissolving to dust after being ravaged by Marco’s claws. It was almost as though someone had trashed the alley some more, stripped Marco naked, and let Amanda get away.
But that was utterly and completely impossible.
Marco’s tears stopped. “Oh well, so much for that idea,” he said, clearly and concisely. His hands shot up and grabbed John by the genitals. He squeezed. John felt the sharp points of nails driving into his flesh.
Marco’s eyes locked onto John’s. His eyes were cool, and clear, and a deep, dark blue. But the amused, entertained smile on his lips didn’t reach his eyes. They were alive with rage.
Marco rose from the alley floor, naked as the day he was born. He didn’t seem to notice as he came eye-to-eye with John. “You bastards wanted to see my dark side?”
Marco’s claws lengthened, ripping through flesh.
John’s screams could be heard clearly from the alley, and three streets down.
Marco stepped out to meet the other werewolves, still in the street. He moved with controlled grace, like a dancer, and stood square against the pack. “Hi, guys.”
The dumpster moved, shifted, and rolled aside. Tully emerged, damaged but otherwise okay. He stared at Marco. “How? No one can control their dark side that well. Not during their first change.”
Marco gave him a smile. “You made two mistakes, Tully. So did Misha.”
One of the thinner werewolves leaped at Marco, and he leaned to one side, letting the were pass him. Marco grabbed the wolf’s ankle in passing, and jerked him out of the air, slamming him down against the pavement. His eyes never left Tully’s as he proceeded to slam the were against the asphalt as a form of punctuation.
“Never.” Slam. “Send.” Slam. “A wolf. After. His. Mate!” He grinned as he hurled the wolf away into the alley like he was no heavier than a garbage bag. “I mate for life. Like wolves. Or Catholics.”
Tully looked at Marco, pointed to another were, named Ben, and gave a “Get him” gesture at Marco.
Ben growled and turned furry as he charged Marco. Marco calmly remained in place until Ben leaped for him. Marco followed the arc of his flight path, then jumped back, slamming his foot down on a manhole cover, flipping it up into his hands. Ben fell into the hole headfirst, and Marco slammed the cover back down onto him. There was a resounding crack from Ben’s spine as vertebrae and ribs shattered upon impact.
“Your second problem?” He shrugged. “You said it yourself. Going furry is just the physical manifestation of one’s dark side.”
Tully charged him, coming to a stop just out of arm’s length. Marco swept down, picking up the manhole cover, and threw it, bottom first, into Tully’s face. Tully easily batted it away, but it covered Marco’s drop-kick into Tully’s knees. Tully roared in pain as Marco bounded to his feet and shot in. His nails extended like claws and jabbed
into Tully’s skin around the collarbone. He drove in with his fingers, pushing into his flesh. Grabbing the collarbone like a handle, he yanked down hard and shattering the bone. It rendered Tully’s right shoulder totally useless.
Just because it wasn’t permanent damage caused by silver, didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
Marco grinned and stared deep into Tully’s eyes. His own had a hint of gold in them now. “Because, Tully, Asmodeus should have told you: I am my dark side.”
Marco hurled Tully to the ground and looked to the rest of the wolf pack. “As of right now, I claim my place as your new Alpha. Are there any objections?”
One of the larger weres shot from the pack, right for Marco.
Marco grabbed the manhole cover and hurled it like Captain America’s shield. It crashed into the large wolf’s chest, caving it in.
“Anyone else?” Marco asked, darkly.
The wolf pack shrank back. One or two of them literally rolled over on their backs, showing their bellies.
“Great.” Marco looked up at the roof of one of the two buildings that formed the alley. He said casually, “Amanda, my love, you can come down now.”
Amanda fell from the top of the building, landing easily on her feet. She slung the duffel from her back and said, “I think you’ll need these.”
Marco nodded, and smiled. “Thank you.” He looked to the wolf pack. “You guys. Stay.”
Marco walked back into the alley, Amanda right behind him.
“Do you have to get dressed?” Amanda joked. “I don’t mind you like this.”