by Cate Farren
He heard something behind him. He spun around just in time to counter the fist coming his way.
“Good catch.”
It was Rian, the son of the Lovelock werewolf clan – and Valko’s best friend since childhood. While it was good to see him he was curious as to why he was in his house in the middle of the night.
“What are you doing here, Rian?” Valko asked.
“I thought I’d sneak in before the conference,” said Rian. He grinned and grabbed a can of beer. “It’s going to be epic this year.”
“Since when did you think they were epic?” Valko grinned. Rian always joined in the fights, and often dragged Valko along with him. “I remember we always used to skip them when we were younger, and they haven’t got any more interesting.”
Valko felt his stomach lurch with foreboding. He was about to take another sip of beer when Rian punched him so hard in the face he crashed into the refrigerator.
What the fuck?
He growled, flipped to his feet, and felt his tender jaw. For a second he thought maybe Rian was playing a game. They’d often had mock fights what had gotten a little bloody. Maybe this was one of them.
“What the hell are you doing?” Valko demanded.
But he knew this was no game. The stench of hatred radiating from his friend was palpable, as was the smell of dozens of other unfamiliar werewolves near the house.
“I’m taking what should be mine,” Rian confessed.
“My family worked hard to build this business and…”
Rian shook his head. “I’m not talking about the house or the business. I know your father worked hard for it. I’m talking about your status as an alpha family. It should be mine.”
Valko wanted answers but he knew he’d never get them. Whatever was happening meant his family was going to die. He had to protect them to the end.
If this is the day I die then so be it.
He growled and punched Rian. Even as they fought, trashing the kitchen, he could hear more fighting going on upstairs. He felt his parents anger and fear and joy of the fight. They could take care of themselves.
There was the sound of a shotgun. Valko screamed as buckshot exploded across his back. He fell down onto his knees as he heard more feet rush into the kitchen. He was surrounded. He couldn’t move. His spine felt like it had shattered.
“Secure the house,” Rian ordered.
“What about the elders?” someone asked.
I know that voice! That’s Dad’s friend, Coy!
“Don’t kill them,” said Rian. “Keep them alive.”
Valko crawled across the ice cold kitchen tiles, making for the back door. Every inch was agony as the buckshot wormed its way through the flesh on his back.
A wolf bit him on the foot, and tugged at him like he was a chew toy. Valko kicked back, and heard a squeal of pain. He staggered to his feet, ready to grab the door, but he found it locked.
He turned back. There were a dozen wolves staring at him. Their eyes were aglow in the semi-darkness of the kitchen. Each one was growling, hackles raised, ready to fight.
“Stop this,” Valko called. “My parents will…”
He heard Vasilka scream in terror. He roared and charged forward, into the melee of fur and teeth. They ripped at him, bit him. Blood flew and claws gouged, but all Valko could think about was his sister.
Vasilka…
I have to save her!
When the wolves brought him down, their teeth ripping into every part of his body, all he could hear was his sister’s dying shrieks.
Chapter 5
Valko howled.
“I have to get to them!” he shouted. “I have to…”
She pushed him back down onto the bed. “You’re still not healed properly. Don’t push yourself.”
“They could still be alive.”
“Do you want to die? You’ll be no good to your family then.”
He huffed. “Fine.”
He heeded her protests, and pressed his head back against the pillow. She was right. He’d been shot and stabbed and torn apart by a dozen different wolves. He was surprised he wasn’t dead already.
I should be dead.
“They could’ve killed me,” he whispered.
“You were too fast for them,” she said.
He shook his head. “I was betrayed. There were dozens of them. I should have died.”
He didn’t understand it. Rian was better than this. If he truly wanted him dead, then Valko would be dead. Rian had either severely underestimated his best friend, or he’d been allowed to get away with his life. That was the only explanation.
Valko dismissed that thought. Rian had murdered his sister, taken his family hostage, taken his whole life. He would have given one hundred percent in trying to take Valko’s life.
“Sleep,” Alanna instructed.
He yawned, tiredness overtaking him. “Perhaps. Just for a while.”
He closed his eyes and fell into an instant sleep.
***
Valko woke with a start. Bright, fresh sunlight made patterns in the shadows of the cabin. He yawned, stretching, forgetting for a moment the bad shape his body was in.
Shit! That’s painful!
He could hear banging. It sounded like someone was repeatedly hitting something with a hammer. It reminded him of the metal forge on the family estate, the one operated by Rian.
“Alanna?” he called.
He pulled himself out of bed. He was dressed in just a pair of black boxer shorts that had seen better days.
I was naked the other day.
He figured he must have slept longer than he’d imagined.
He cursed when he saw the damage done to his body. He would scar, no matter his healing abilities. His skin would be riddled with signs that he’d been betrayed. He’d never be able to get away from it.
He traced his hand across his abdomen, and felt the thick, puckish scar. He vaguely remembered seeing his intestines trickling from a gash on his stomach, trailing behind him as he crawled to safety.
The stitches have been removed already. I really have been out for a long time; maybe at least four or five days.
He shuddered and took a step forward. His legs gave out under him; he fell, and banged his head against the side of the bed. The toes on his right foot were missing, though they were slowly growing back. They looked like tiny flesh lumps. It was horrifying.
They tried to kill me and they failed.
He couldn’t help but emit a bitter laugh. He’d been mauled and shot and stabbed. They’d ripped out his intestines and chewed off half of his foot, but he’d still escaped. He was the luckiest wolf alive.
The banging stopped.
“Rian will pay for this,” he whispered.
He pulled himself back into bed and pulled the covers up just as Alanna entered. She must have been in the barn, seeing to the cow. But what had she been hammering? Did she have her own forge hidden away somewhere?
“You got out of bed and hurt yourself,” she stated as she rushed to his bedside. “That was idiotic.”
Her clothes had dust on them. He could smell earth and grime as well as cow manure. Her stench was quite potent.
“A wolf doesn’t like to be still,” he said as he tried to make himself comfortable. His ass ached, only confirming once more that he’d been in this bed a long time. “A wolf likes to roam.”
She went into her room, and left the door half ajar. He sat up in bed, peeking, only catching a glimpse of her naked shoulder as she changed clothes. Her back was freckled and soft, and it aroused him. It had been a long time since he’d been intimate with a woman. Too long.
He’d never really learned to trust again after Karin’s betrayal. The only reason he’d forgiven her was because she was friends with Vasilka. Now he wished he’d been more active, pursued a relationship with someone else. It would have been nice to see the look on his parents’ faces when presented with their first grandchild.
They cou
ld still be alive! I might still have that chance!
Alanna charged back into the room, wearing almost identical clothing. She grinned down at him.
“The freckles reach all the way to my bottom,” she said playfully.
He laughed. “You’ve seen me naked. It’s only fair.”
“Did you like what you saw?”
“Did you?”
She turned her back on him and started on breakfast. Soon the tantalizing aromas of frying bacon and scrambled eggs filled the cabin. Valko wondered for a second where she got the bacon before deciding he didn’t want to know. It smelled too good.
She brought him his breakfast on a tray. It wasn’t bacon, but something else. It smelled more like deer.
“You caught a deer for me?” he asked incredulously.
He was impressed. He knew vampires had sneaky speed, but he didn’t know that they could hunt wild animals.
“You needed to eat,” she said as she sat by the bed. “So I caught one.”
He took the piece of seared deer meat and bit into it. Juices flowed into his mouth and he sighed with delirium. It was perfect, cooked just the way he liked it.
She watched him as he ate. He had a feeling she wanted to say something but was afraid to. Maybe she had a craving for human food? Valko couldn’t imagine living an immortal life without bacon, chocolate, and spaghetti. It would be hell.
“You said things in your sleep,” she said casually.
“I’ve been told I tend to talk in my sleep,” he admitted.
“I know you’re feeling helpless right now. I know you’re worried for your family. But…”
“Just let me eat.”
She nodded her head and left to tidy up in the kitchen. Valko continued to eat, thought he felt a little guilty for snapping at her. It wasn’t her fault. She’d saved him. She deserved better than his frayed temper and self pity.
He swallowed the last of the meat and said, “I’m sorry. I know you’re only trying to help.”
She ignored him, continuing to wash plates in the sink. She made a little bit more noise than anyone doing the dishes would normally make.
Why do I feel like we’re an old married couple already?
For some reason the idea amused him.
***
Their routine continued like this for five days straight. Breakfast. Light lunch. Stew for dinner. They talked amiably, though infrequently. She was good company, even though he itched to heal and help his family.
“Can you switch the TV on?” he asked. “I’d like to watch the news.”
“I doubt there’d be news of your family on the TV,” she said frostily. “It’s just daytime stuff on right now.”
“To be perfectly honest… this is a little embarrassing… “Days of Our Lives” is about to start. I haven’t missed an episode since it started.”
She turned to him with a grin on her face. “Neither have I.”
She sighed and washed her hands with a towel before going over to the tiny television set.
“It doesn’t work,” she said. “Damn. I forgot.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Valko. “I can live without it.”
She stormed off back into the barn, leaving Valko confused. Was the TV that important to her, or had he missed something?
She’s odd.
He continued with his breakfast, his mind going inexorably back to the pattern of freckles on Alanna’s back.
***
It was barely an hour later when he heard the static buzz of a radio signal. He looked up from his bed, surprised that he’d been dozing off, to find Alanna messing about with a small FM radio. The small device looked almost as ancient as the trees around the cabin.
“Silence is not golden,” she told him.
“I could do with some music,” he said.
She fiddled around with the dial a bit more until something came on. It was Duran Duran. Valko loved Duran Duran.
“Modern music is garbage,” Alanna muttered, and changed the channel. Valko groaned, but she ignored him, turning the dial until she picked up classical music. He had no idea who’d composed it, and he wasn’t sure he liked it, but it was comforting. “There. Something decent.”
He noticed a glass of blood next to the kitchen sink. It had her lip marks on the edge of it.
“So what are we going to do today?” he asked. He felt in a jovial mood, despite the pain, both emotional and physical.
“You’re not doing anything,” she declared as she grabbed her glass of blood. He actually felt a little nauseous when she drank from it. “I have some errands to run.”
He felt nervous, anxious. The thought of being left alone terrified him so deeply it made him feel ashamed. Yet it was the truth. He was vulnerable. If Rian found him all he could do was close his eyes and wait for death.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
Don’t sound needy, Valko. You’re a wolf. You’re stronger than this.
“I need to get a new TV,” she said as she gave one heartfelt glance towards the broken set. “I definitely need a new TV.”
“I still find it odd that you enjoy television,” he remarked.
“Hermits can watch television.”
“You just don’t seem the type.”
She leaned in close over the bed, and inspected the wounds on his abdomen with her slender fingers. Her nails were bitten to the quick. It seemed she was as anxious as he was.
“There’s nothing much to do here,” she said, as she idly picked off a scab of old skin from one of Valko’s abs. The act was curiously erotic. “Besides, I thought we bonded over our love of a silly soap opera?”
She glared at him, their eyes locked onto each other. Valko felt as if he could peer into her very soul. He felt her loneliness. He felt that such a simple thing as a television set was something that drove away boredom and insanity. He felt her.
“Are you a mind reader?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I’m just…checking out your eyes. You still seem a tad lethargic.” She stroked her hands across his jaw. “I can feel little hairs coming through where the wolf bit you. Your beard will be thick and glorious in no time.”
She pulled her hand away quickly, fanging out. She turned away from him as if ashamed.
“What is it?” he asked. “Alanna?”
“I better go,” she said, standing up. “It’s a long trek into town, and it’s started snowing again.”
Her fangs had retracted now, which made her face pale and pretty again. Not that she wasn’t pretty when she was in full vampire mode, just different.
Vampires usually tend to fang out uncontrollably when they’re angry or scared…or full of sexual desire.
“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?” he asked.
As she was pulling on her coat, she turned to him, her face sober, and said, “Heal.”
Chapter 6
The journey into town was as long and tedious as Alanna had anticipated. The snow was thick now, which impeded her progress. Even someone with vampire strength found wading through thick snow piles a chore.
When she reached the edge of town, she stopped. Little had changed, even after twenty years. The buildings were wooden and rustic, charming. There was some sort of café called Burger King where the hardware store used to be, and parts of the road were paved with tarmac, but it was all familiar. It even smelled the same.
She stopped outside Yolanda’s Salon. Alanna remembered popping in here in the early sixties. Trade had been brisk. People weren’t willing to get their hair cut by a black woman back then. She wasn’t sure why. The thoughts and prejudices of humans often eluded her.
She peered through the window, and found that Yolanda was now in her late fifties. She was as bright and bubbly as ever and the salon was full with both blacks and whites. They looked happy. Yolanda looked happy.
Things change.
Alanna briefly wondered what was happening in Pod’s Mill right now. The last she’d he
ard it was still prospering, still a center for witches the world over, though that had been fifty years ago. For all she knew it had been bombed during World War 2 or flooded or anything. She was surprised she actually cared, even after what they’d done to her.
She ignored the morbid thoughts in her head and stepped into the salon. It was about time she did something different with her hair.
***
Alanna exited the salon, feeling confident and sexy, even as the wind and flurries of snow threatened to obliterate her new hairdo. Yolanda had assured her the style was all the rage in the magazines. She hadn’t been sure at first until she’d looked in the mirror and gasped at the changes the stylist had wrought.
I look like a different woman.
She hurried for the general store, hoping the wind would die down after she’d made her purchases. She didn’t want her new hairdo ruined before she even got home.
She stopped, suddenly wondering why it was important that Valko saw the new her.
He’s just a man.
She shook her head, rumbling any thoughts that tried to surface. She didn’t have time for this.
“Are you okay?” a tiny voice asked.
There was a small boy sat outside the general store on a bench. He was wrapped up in several layers of coats and hats and gloves. The only thing she could make out was his mischievous face and a nose that was red from the biting cold.
“The wind is messing up my hair,” she complained.
“You look like a scarecrow,” said the boy.
Alanna laughed. “Maybe I do.”
She peered inside the general store, and found that things were vastly different. There were huge freezers and shelves upon shelves of candy bars she’d never heard of. The store had been extended too, making it three times the size it was back in the sixties.
“When did things change so much?” she whispered.
“Grandpa got a bank loan a few years ago,” said the boy. “He said he had to compete with the big stores.”
She ignored the boy and entered the store. It was warm inside, though it bothered her as much as the cold outside. Wearing thick layers of clothing made moving about awkward, but she could hardly walk around outside as if the weather didn’t bother her. The humans would think she had a death wish.