Way of the Wolf: Shifter Legacies 1

by Mark E. Cooper

  “Why are you doing this?” Stephen asked them. “How can you ally with them?” The guards ignored him. “You have no honour.”

  That got a reaction, but not a constructive one. They glared at him in silence. When Michael stopped his carrying on, they opened the cage and dragged the body out for disposal. Michael didn’t try to escape; the humans had spread out to cover him with their weapons in case he tried, but he didn’t notice. He remained kneeling in the middle of the cage, rocking to some internal rhythm.

  “Another one to plant,” one of the humans said in disgust, lifting the corpse onto his shoulder. “Maybe we should just drop him in an alley somewhere. I hate all this bloody digging.”

  “You have your orders.”

  “Taking orders from a damned vamp,” the human muttered as he started up the steps. “It ain’t right.”

  The rest of the guards followed him up.

  “Michael!” Stephen called when they were alone, but his old friend didn’t respond. “Michael!” he barked the word, louder and more demanding.

  “Stephen?” Michael said looking vaguely around his cage. “Are you real?”

  “It’s me. I’m real.”

  “He got you too?”

  Stephen frowned. “AML raided the house I was visiting.”

  Michael climbed to his feet and approached the bars of his cage. He studied Andrew for a moment, and then dismissed him. “They’re working together,” he said finally.

  “Who?” Andrew said.

  “This is Andrew; he was captured with me, and there was a woman with us. A human. Marie is her name. Have you seen her?”

  “No, I have not seen her,” Michael said and inclined his head politely to Andrew.

  “Who is our enemy, Michael? I’ve seen things here that I do not understand. Newborns with no maker bonds, vampires working alongside AML thugs. Name him to me.”

  “He calls himself Arcadian—”

  Stephen inhaled sharply.

  “No, Stephen, he isn’t old enough for it to be true. It’s an affectation, but I think he believes it. His people pretend, or maybe they believe it’s true.”

  “What is happening? He’s forcing you to make new vampires. Why is AML helping him? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “He’s insane, but it does make sense. An awful evil sense. He tried to recruit me, but when I said no he took my child.”

  “John O’Neal.”

  “How did you know?”

  “AML raided your house, but we caught them there and killed them. I’m afraid they killed a lot of your guests. O’Neal is dead too.”

  Michael nodded grimly. “They took John. I loved him well, but I would not submit to Arcadian’s madness, not even for him.”

  Stephen winced. “Do we have to call him that?”

  “I have no other name for him.”

  “Can we get to the part where AML work for vampires?” Andrew interjected.

  Michael nodded. “They think Arcadian is working for them. They’re funding his research, but they don’t realise his true aim. They think they will discover a cure for vampirism and a way to inoculate the human population. Basically, AML want a way to make us extinct.”

  “Sounds like them,” Andrew said. “Is it possible?”

  “I have no idea, but it doesn’t matter anyway because he isn’t researching a cure. He’s designing a weapon, an airborne virus that mimics the gift. He says the human monopoly on population is the reason we have no rights. His idea is to create an airborne plague to turn as many humans as possible all at once. Once we are no longer a minority in the world, governments will have no choice but to recognise us as equals. Besides, most of them will be vampire too by then.”

  “That might actually work,” Stephen murmured in surprise and Andrew shot him a look. He shrugged. “It might.”

  “No,” Michael disagreed. “It won’t. He says he wants equality but it’s a lie. The weapon will kill a third of all humans alive today, and turn a third while keeping the remaining third alive as cattle to feed the new population of vampires. It’s madness, and evil, but worse than that, it won’t work. I’ve seen the abominations he’s made with my polluted blood. They aren’t sane, and they have no bond to their maker with which to control them. Their maker is a virus in a petri dish.”

  A world populated by insane vampires? “We need to stop this.”

  “Stop it, hell,” Andrew said. “We need to kill this whack job and everyone involved. Imagine this thing falling into a terrorist’s hands.”

  “I wouldn’t trust our own government with this,” Stephen agreed grimly. “No one must have this!”

  Michael agreed, looking grim. “The researchers must die, and their work must be destroyed.”

  “We have to get word of this to Gavin, but how?”

  One of the shifters in a nearby cage had been listening to them. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of his cage watching. “There’s no escape. Only the dead leave this place.”

  Andrew regarded the shifter with sudden speculation.

  “Don’t even think about it!” the shifter snapped.

  “He’s immune in any case,” Stephen said, guessing at Andrew’s sudden interest in the stranger.

  “Yeah, what he said.” The shifter got to his feet and made a point of turning his back to them before sitting down again.

  * * *

  “Miss Stirling?” Andrew said. “Damn them, what did they do to her?”

  “She’s been bitten,” Stephen said in a hard voice. “One of them has fed from her, hopefully nothing worse than that. She’ll recover if they didn’t take too much. Can you see the bite? Is it sealed?”

  “I can’t see properly. Miss Stirling? Marie! Look this way... over here!”

  “Andrew?” she said dreamily. “You’re here too?”

  “You’re back in the basement with us. Can you remember what happened?”

  She raised a hand to her sore neck. It felt as if she had the worse hickey in the history of hickeys. She winced as she explored it. “He bit me!”

  “Who did?” Andrew and Stephen said together.

  “Terry, that bastard!”

  The anger cleared her thoughts and memory crashed over her. Oh Goddess, he’d raped her. She felt icky all over as she remembered responding to him. Oh Lady, she wanted a shower so bad right now. She would use bleach if it would rid her of this feeling. She was sticky down there, between her legs, and she felt bile rising. She forced it down. She would not be sick. She was stronger than this. Terry hadn’t been able to get it up, thank the Lady. He had used his mouth and hands on her. Terrible as that memory was now, she was thankful. Her humiliation could always be worse.

  Magical manipulation used to rape was a capital offence. All she had to do was survive and accuse him, and Terry would die. Executed. No trial, just a stake, and a quick beheading after that. She took a careful breath turning the pleasant thought over in her mind. She had always thought the law a barbaric thing when applied to non-humans. Where was justice in execution without trial? But for Terry, it would be justice.

  “Marie, please talk to us... don’t think about what he did,” Andrew begged, sounding desperate and close to tears. “You’ll be all right. Stephen says you won’t be addicted if he leaves you alone from now on.”

  Addicted! She hadn’t thought of that, but she remembered clearly, too clearly, how good it had felt. It would be easy to crave that feeling again. The thrill seekers who frequented Stephen’s club had fallen into that trap. She wouldn’t allow herself to become one of them no matter how good it felt.

  “I’m fine,” she said, forcing herself to believe it. Inside she was wailing like a little girl, but she wouldn’t let the men see her lose it. She had to be strong for them. “Arcadian—that’s the one in charge here—plans to let me go. He wants me to stop dad’s investigation into Wilson.”

  “It’s too late for that,” Andrew said.

  “I know, but he wouldn’t listen.” />
  “What went wrong? Why are you locked up again?”

  “He told Terry to put me back down here while he meets with Newman.”

  “The leader of AML, that Newman?”

  She nodded.

  “It must be important for him to come out of hiding and risk capture. I wonder if it’s about Wilson too.”

  “Could be,” Marie agreed. “They’re both supporting Arcadian for some reason.”

  She broke off as the subject of the conversation came down the steps. His friend, Cadmon, followed him looking grim faced. The others she’d met upstairs didn’t make an appearance and she was glad, but she couldn’t help wondering about them. She didn’t want to think about Terry, but she would prefer to know where he was, rather than worry about him showing up.

  Everyone watched Arcadian warily, including Cadmon. Stephen was studying his enemy intently. Marie didn’t know enough about what he could and couldn’t do, but she would bet he had a way to evaluate his nemesis. Andrew looked worried, as did the other prisoners. Everyone was scared and watched warily as the vampires paused in the open space between the cages ringing the room. Arcadian surveyed each prisoner thoughtfully, perhaps judging how they would taste. Who knew? She certainly didn’t know what went on in a mad vampire’s head.

  “Miss Stirling,” Arcadian said, acknowledging her. Cadmon switched the power off to her cage and opened its gate. “Please, step out if you will?”

  She couldn’t stop trembling. She stood and left the cage.

  “Where are you taking her?” Andrew said. “She can’t donate blood again so soon! Look at how pale she is, damn you!”

  “Andrew don’t cause trouble. I’ll be all right,” she said shakily, with visions of what Terry had done to her flashing into her mind. Oh Lady, please be with me! Her prayer didn’t reduce her fears. She couldn’t go through that again. She couldn’t! “Don’t get yourself killed.”

  “You should listen to her, young human,” Arcadian said coldly. “She probably just saved your life. Come my dear. We have things to discuss. There have been developments.”

  “De-developments?” she stuttered. “Are you taking me home now? Can I go home now, pl-please?”

  “Hush. We shall discuss it upstairs.”

  * * *

  Andrew spun away from the bars when the basement door closed and the locks clicked. He prowled his cage, his thoughts racing. She hadn’t said anything, but he knew. He knew what Terry had done. That sick fuck had raped her! He just knew. She said he’d bitten her, and that was true, but there was more. He knew there was. He’d known her for years, since she was a kid, and he knew when she was holding back. The look in her eyes had been... desolate? Yes desolate and sickened. He had seen it clearly.

  Marie was still a young woman, but she wasn’t an innocent. She’d had sexual encounters with boyfriends over the years. He knew about all of them. She would never reveal something like that of course, but her father had been very protective. Overly protective in fact. He’d been ordered to investigate every one of her boyfriends and partners over the years and take steps where necessary. Her last boyfriend had needed such steps as it turned out. The fool had been what Marie’s father would have called a player or gold digger. What he really had been was a foolish boy, trying his luck at entering a world of privilege by manipulating a vulnerable girl’s affections.

  Well I fixed him. Problem solved never to return.

  He couldn’t fix the current problem so easily. Threats and money were out. He had no resources. The crack team he’d built for the Stirlings over the years was gone. His entire team was dead and no one knew where he was being held. He had no doubt that the police were investigating, but they would be looking at the usual suspects like AML. The Anti-Monster League was involved, but not in a way that could possibly lead to rescue. This place, wherever it was, belonged to Arcadian—a vampire. Nothing could be more opposite to an AML member than a powerful vampire. There was no possibility that the police would be looking at the monster community for a suspect.

  He spun back and stalked across his cage. Stephen was sitting on his bed hugging himself. Andrew stopped to study him. The vamp didn’t look good. His cheeks were sunken and his hair had lost its shine. Stephen looked worse every time he stopped to look. Whatever it was that animated vampires was retreating from the surface, like a human body at risk of hypothermia sacrificing its fingers and toes to keep its internal organs warm, Stephen’s body was abandoning superficial things like his appearance. His dwindling reserves were focusing now on survival. He was starting to look like the corpse he was.

  He didn’t know much about the reasons why vampires were different from other kinds of undead. Oh, he knew generalities; things that might impact his job like their strengths and weaknesses, but he didn’t know why zombies were mindless for example, or why ghouls had animal like cunning and intelligence. Of all the undead, why were vampires the most like real people? The evidence before his eyes gave credence to the common belief that vampires were just corpses animated by magic. He didn’t doubt it seeing Stephen’s deteriorating condition. He hadn’t seriously thought about it before, but then he’d never associated with one before this.

  He turned to Michael and nodded at Stephen. Michael had also been watching the ailing vampire. He seemed in pretty good shape for a vamp who had been repeatedly drained, but that was because whenever they brought him back they tossed him a meal. Usually a human from one of the other cages. It sort of topped up his tank each time, but no one had allowed Stephen to feed. Maybe they feared him, and wanted him weakened. There was no way to know, but it didn’t make a lot of sense if that’s what they wanted. It seemed to him that Stephen was more dangerous in his current condition, not less. Besides, they did whatever they wanted to Michael while he slept. They could do the same with Stephen.

  Andrew clenched his fists, and prowled his cage some more.

  What was happening to Marie right now while he did nothing but fret? He hated to think. They might have let her go. She said they wanted her to close down her father’s investigation into Wilson. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t do what they wanted. All that did was getting away from here. Once away, she could contact the police or something, but getting away from here was the first step.

  Stephen growled and Andrew froze. He had accidentally gotten too close. He eased back from the bars, watching Stephen warily. He had vamped out. His eyes were fully gone and his fangs were showing. They weren’t all the way into attack position though. He was fighting it.

  He took another careful step back almost too late.

  Stephen launched himself at the bars, his clutching fingers reaching through them, fingers hooked like talons. His humanity had folded away, removing the illusion and revealing the true visage of a vampire. He was bestial in his hunger. If the bars hurt, he wasn’t showing it. He was growling and whimpering at the same time. The utter desperation on his face was shockingly clear. Andrew felt sorry for him, but not enough to close the distance. In this state, Stephen wouldn’t just feed; he would kill.

  He frowned at the snarling demonic looking vampire, thoughts racing and determination hardening. He would save Marie, no matter what he had to suffer to do that. He would save her!

  “Michael?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m going to feed him.”

  “Can I watch? He’ll kill you, you know?”

  Andrew nodded.

  “Are sure you want this?”

  “I don’t want it, but I want to save Marie. I’ll have choices to make. After I mean.”

  “There are always choices,” Michael agreed solemnly. “I made mine. Stephen his. You must be sure of why you’re doing this. No one really knows why some of us don’t rise, but I have my theory—they didn’t want it enough. Or, to put it another way, their determination—their will to come back, to survive—was weak. The weak do not survive long in my world, Andrew. You must be strong and certain of your reasons.”

  “For
love of her,” he said, stepping toward Stephen. He held up his wrist. “Tell Stephen the plan?”

  “I shall the moment he comes back to himself. You must live long enough for him to feed you. You understand the process?”

  Andrew nodded shakily and stepped within Stephen’s reach.

  * * *

  36 ~ For Love of Her

  Dreams of blood and suffocation were his only companions in the void. He couldn’t breathe, wasn’t breathing and panic made him cry out in denial. He didn’t want to die! No sound. No movement. He had no air to make a sound and couldn’t move! Something filled his mouth and ears. He could taste the dirt that gagged his cries and muted his ears. They had buried him alive! He struggled against his earthen prison; he had to get out or go insane! He put every ounce of strength he had into the task, but he couldn’t even twitch a finger.

  He felt the day passing. He explored the strange sensation, and concentrated upon it, distracting himself from his fears. Time crawled by. Yes, time was passing. He felt it doing that and it surprised him. Why did it surprise him, was there something about it that was important? It was important because... because... he couldn’t remember! Someone had put him in the ground and buried him alive, imprisoned him in the earth while his body cooled as if dead, and he couldn’t remember who or why or even his own name.

  Someone help me! I’m not dead! Help meeeeee!

  There was no sound from his lips and no air to make it. Maybe he really was dead. That notion made a kind of sense, not a comforting one mind, but thinking about it rationally eased his fears. He had always preferred to know the worst hadn’t he? He wasn’t sure but it felt right. The unknown was always scarier than the known. He might be dead, but no, that didn’t fit the facts. He was aware and thinking wasn’t he? Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he was just asleep. How could he wake up?

  Why couldn’t he remember? Was there an accident? He could be injured and in a coma. That would fit. He couldn’t wake because... but no, he was in the ground not in a bed. He knew that. He could feel the earth around him, and taste it in his mouth. How long had he been here, and where was here? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything!