by J. R. Rain
“Kingsley, it’s a trap,” said Allison. “There are others waiting for her. I saw them. In particular, the old vampire.”
“I’ll take care of him,” said Kingsley. “We do, after all, have some unfinished business.” He was, of course, referring of their epic battle last year under the dome, when the old vampire had bested him and escaped. Kingsley looked grimly from me to Allison. “You remember the plan?” he asked her.
“I’ll take care of the hunters,” said my friend, who suddenly didn’t seem very confident. She swallowed and I would have admired her bravery if I hadn’t known the clock was ticking on my ex-husband.
This wasn’t happening. I hadn’t just seen my ex-husband get stabbed in the chest. I hadn’t seen my sister with a bag over her head.
This wasn’t happening, this wasn’t happening.
No, no, no.
Kingsley gave me a final look, his handsome face full of determination and pity, and what happened next should have surprised me. Hell, it should have fascinated me. But it didn’t.
Before our very eyes, Kingsley transformed.
Back in the minivan, he had told us he would do this. This had been, in fact, his plan. The old vampire was too strong for him in his human form. But the fight would be even in his changeling form. His werewolf form. I had spoken against this, reminding him that he lost all control of himself during transformation, and what Kingsley said next surprised and thrilled me at the time. “No, Sam. I lose control when the moon is full. Not so much when I choose to transform.”
This had, of course, been news to me.
And now his transformation couldn’t happen fast enough. Kingsley tore off his shirt and hunched forward, away from us. I had a sense that he didn’t want us to see his face. He jerked and contorted and howled in what I assumed was agony. Allison slipped behind me, and I didn’t blame her. The man she had a crush on was metamorphosing before our eyes.
The change took only seconds, perhaps twenty seconds in all. All the while, I thought of Danny with a knife in his chest.
Nothing you can do about it, if you’re dead, I thought, which might have been my only rational thought during these moments. Yes, I knew we were walking into a trap. But they weren’t expecting a full-fledged werewolf to make an appearance, a werewolf who would take on their oldest and strongest vampire.
Now Kingsley dropped to his knees and arched his back and what I saw there surprised even me. Hair had sprouted almost instantly. Short, silver-brown, thick hair.
No, fur.
Yes, I had seen what Kingsley turned into each full moon. A true wolfman, hulking, bipedal, frightening. What was emerging now was something different. It was, in fact, an actual wolf.
Within moments, a massive, four-legged wolf was now standing before us in the tunnel, looking haggard and pissed off, his mane hair erect, his tail held high in aggressive position. It turned once, looked back at us with Kingsley’s same amber eyes, then it was off and running, faster than even I could run, which was pretty damn fast.
I was torn between running behind it and keeping Allison safe. Yes, I knew my friend had recently come into some powerful new skills—and could quite possibly take care of herself—but I couldn’t take that chance. Ultimately, I held back with Allison, not wanting to leave my friend behind in the tunnels. The wolf that was Kingsley charged ahead and was soon out of sight.
Chapter Forty-three
I paused just outside the cavern entrance.
While I waited for Allison to catch up, I listened to the horrific sounds echoing from within the big, underground room. I was tempted to dash into the cavern, but I didn’t. That was what they wanted. I was sure of it. For me to act recklessly, dangerously.
For me to die.
I held back, despite my natural instinct to rush forward and help. Kingsley had his hands full—or teeth full—in there. But he was a big boy. Or a big doggie. Instead, I closed my eyes and cast my thoughts forward a final time, into the cavern, and saw two people waiting not too far away. Whether they were vampires or not, I didn’t know—but one thing was for certain.
Each was holding a crossbow notched with a silver-tipped arrow.
Allison, breathing hard next to me, communicated with me silently: I see them, Sam. Let me take care of them. Go get Danny and your sister.
What do you mean?
Allison took point, stepping around me and into the cavern, holding her hands up before her.
* * *
She continued into the cavern in full witch mode, hands raised, palms out, like a battle was about to go down.
Her back was to me. I nearly ran to her, but waited, knowing what she was doing. She was clearing the way for me. I was expecting the worst. I was expecting a silver-tipped arrow to blossom in her chest.
But that didn’t happen.
Instead, as the vicious fighting sounds of the werewolf and the vampire grew even louder and fiercer, Allison stood at the cavern entrance, unscathed, hands still up. Her hands, I saw, were shaking.
“Now, Sam!” she said, turning her head slightly toward me. Her arms were shaking even harder.
I was instantly in the cavern—and saw the two men guards now pinned against the rock walls, their crossbows crushed at their feet, their faces and hands physically forced into the stone wall behind them. They couldn’t fight or struggle, or perhaps even breathe. They stood there, immobile, frozen, while Allison slowly walked forward, her hands still up and shaking even harder.
“Hurry, Sam!”
I was about to dash forward, into the adjoining cavern, when I saw a sight I wouldn’t soon forget: Kingsley, in wolf form, was engaged in mortal combat with the vampire, the very old and very powerful vampire. As I watched, Kingsley went for the vampire’s throat, hurling his long, muscular body through the air, only to absorb a devastating blow by the vampire that sent the wolf reeling, flipping head over tail, to crash into a nearby wall. The vampire, I saw, was covered with deep wounds, skin flapping at his scalp and neck. Yes, Kingsley had done some damage.
In the next room, I heard my sister scream.
I moved faster than I ever had in my entire existence.
Chapter Forty-four
I knew Hanner was waiting for me.
In fact, she might have organized the others—the old vampire presently ensnared with Kingsley, and the two hunters waiting just inside the entrance—just to occupy my friends.
Yes, Hanner wanted me.
And only me.
Well, she was going to get me.
I doubted she would be waiting on the other side with a crossbow, nor would Fang. That didn’t seem like her style. So, I took my chances and plunged through the opening, and into the second cavern.
* * *
Yes, there was my sister.
Fang stood next to her, too, holding a long knife...a knife that was presently pressed against her fabric-covered throat, no doubt the reason why my sister had screamed in the first place.
Detective Rachel Hanner bent down next to my seated ex-husband, Danny, her ear pressed to his bloody lips, making a show of listening to him.
Hanner leaned in a little closer, and almost lovingly caressed the handle of the dagger that protruded from the center of his chest. I was too dumbfounded by the scene to act. I just stood there, absorbing the craziness, absorbing the fact that my life had so radically spun out of control that my jerk of an ex-husband was sitting with a dagger in his chest, and that my sister had a bag over her head, with another dagger pressed against her throat, held there by my one-time best friend, Fang.
I took another step into the room, and my sister screamed again, as Fang pressed the blade harder against her throat. I stopped. Hanner straightened and gave me a small smile, although her eyes did anything but smile.
“He keeps calling for you, Sam. I wonder why?” She moved around him as I saw Danny’s body jerk a little. His eyelids fluttered. Blood bubbled up around the blade handle, which meant she had punctured a lung, but not his heart. At least, I didn’t th
ink she had. “Now, why would he be calling your name when he, in fact, called me?”
“Why would he call you?” I asked, and took another step into the room.
“Sam?” screamed Mary Lou, “Oh, my God, Sam, what’s happening?”
“It’s going to be okay, Mary Lou,” I said. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
“It’s very much not going to be okay, Samantha,” said Hanner, now facing me. “Just ask your ex-husband. Oh, and there might have been a small chance that I came across your husband at his sleazy little strip club a few months ago, and told him to call me when his little vampire problem got out of hand.”
Danny jerked his head; a small sound escaped from his bloody lips.
“There he goes again,” said Hanner, shaking her pretty head, but not taking her eyes off me, eyes that burned with an inner flame. “Calling your name like you give a damn.”
“I do give a damn,” I said.
“And that’s your problem, Samantha,” said Hanner. “You give too much of a damn over these humans.”
“You’re not Hanner,” I said, stepping forward again, and this time, Fang didn’t press the knife any harder against my sister’s throat. I noted that Fang looked nothing like the man I had once known. Fang and I had never had a physical relationship, and the truth was, we hadn’t seen too much of each other outside of the bar where he’d worked, Hero’s. Still, the man—or thing—in front of me, holding a knife to my sister’s throat, looked dead and lost.
“No,” said the female detective in front of me. She spoke in a slow, calculating, slightly lilting way, an accent I could not detect. “Hanner has taken, to use a modern idiom, a back seat. But rest assured, she’s watching with interest from the shadows where she belongs. Where all of you belong.”
“He needs help,” I said. “Let him go. Let my sister go. You want me. I’m here.”
“Oh, we want you all, Samantha Moon.”
I looked at Fang, and decided to address him by his real name, “Aaron,” I said. “What have you done? What have they done to you?”
“He can’t talk, Sam,” said Hanner.
I snapped my head around and looked at her. “Why the hell not?”
“He’s been compelled not to, as you might have guessed. Just as he’s being compelled to hold the knife to your sister. Just as he’s being compelled to watch you die.”
“Compelled by whom?” I asked, but knew the answer immediately. “Dominique.”
“But of course, Samantha Moon. Only the most powerful vampires can compel another vampire. And Aaron here, or Eli, or Fang, as he still prefers to be called, has been such a good little boy. And quite the killer, too. Truly vicious. You should see him in action. He makes Mommy so very proud.”
“You’re sick.”
“We’re all sick, Sam.”
“No,” I said. “You’re different. You’re evil.”
“We are mavericks, Samantha, nothing more, nothing less.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means we have seen how the world works, how the Universe works, and we have decided there is a better way.”
“What way?”
“Our way, Samantha Moon. But to do that, you see, we need our sister to be free. You have bottled her up, so to speak, for far too long.”
“You want to give her a new host.”
“Yesss,” Hanner hissed, although it was not Hanner who spoke to me. She looked over at my sister. “Yesss, and we found another, Sssamantha Moon. And she carries, of course, your bloodline.”
“What about my bloodline?” I asked.
“You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“Never mind that, Samantha. You’ll be dead soon.”
Hanner reached behind her back and pulled out an old-fashioned .38 revolver. “Not just any gun, Sam. This one happens to be equipped with silver bullets.”
I almost sprang on her, believing wrongly that I could move faster than she could pull the trigger, except she was a fairly old vampire herself, and I would be dead before I took a step.
The fire in her eyes flared brightly.
I turned my shoulders as a shot rang out. Pain blasted my shoulder as the sound of the gunshot split the air. Mary Lou screamed. Even Danny made a noise. Most interesting was the noise I heard in the next chamber, the sound of something growling and the bellow of something dying.
But that all seemed very far away from me now.
“You are fast, Samantha Moon,” said Hanner, approaching me, holding the gun out. “I’ve never known how you could anticipate another vampire. Then again, maybe it’s something in your blood. Maybe it’s something that’s in your sister’s blood, too. Something we can dig out, understand, and perhaps use.”
I stumbled away from her, holding my shoulder, as her eyes flared again. The next shot shattered my elbow and I felt my right arm drop limp. I cried out for the first time in a long time. Mostly from the burning, the unending, goddamn burning.
She stepped around me, still holding the gun before her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dead...when I saw the slight change. The deadness was replaced with something close to compassion.
“I’m sorry, Sam,” she said, the lilt in her voice gone. “I’m sorry it had to be this way. I liked you. I really did. I thought we could be friends. I thought we could be friends forever. But you wouldn’t play by the rules. By their rules. Just know that I didn’t want this for you.”
She paused, and the deadness returned, replaced by the spark of fire just behind her pupils.
“Enough,” said the accented voice.
She raised the gun, aimed it at my chest, and that was the last thing she ever did in this world.
The silver tip of Fang’s knife blade appeared through her chest.
The bloodied silver tip.
Chapter Forty-five
I was all alone with Danny.
“Allison has gone for help for you,” I said. His head was on my lap as we sat together on the dirt and rock floor. My arm was messed up, but already healing. I kept it at my side. I could literally feel my bones moving, finding their way, forming and reforming.
“Who’s Allison?” he asked. “Never mind.”
I almost smiled. Indeed, a fat lot of good it did him to learn the name of one of my friends, especially if his condition didn’t improve.
“I don’t feel so good, Sam.”
“I know you don’t, you idiot.”
With Fang’s help, we had done our best to staunch Danny’s bleeding.
Fang...he’d been released from his compulsion the instant that Kingsley had killed the old vampire. And when I’d said killed, I meant he could have been killed many dozens of times over. The old man was now nothing but chunks of bloody meat scattered around the cavern. Kingsley had stated that the old man had finally given up, and had just stood there when Kingsley had come for him. He was now certain the old man had wanted nothing more than to finally die. Kingsley had very much given him his wish.
And thus, he’d released Fang from his compulsion.
Instantly, Fang had sprung into action to save me.
Kingsley was now wearing my sweater around his waist, which now looked more like a loincloth. Truth was, with his scratched chest and thick shoulders and wild hair, he looked more like Conan the Barbarian than Orange County’s most prominent defense attorney.
I shook my head at the absurdity of it all and returned my attention to my mortally wounded ex-husband.
“Why did you do it, you big idiot?” I asked.
Danny coughed and as he did so, more blood appeared around his bandage and from the corners of his mouth. “I hated you, Sam. You always seemed to get the better of me.”
“I wasn’t trying to get the better of you, you big friggin’ moron.”
“Do you mind not calling a dying man names, Sam?”
“You’re not dying.”
“You, better than anyone, could see that.”
&
nbsp; He was right, of course. I could see the aura around his body had darkened considerably in the last fifteen minutes, fifteen crazy minutes during which all of us were doing our best to make sense of what had just happened.
When Allison had finally released the two hunters, they’d dashed off, leaving behind their ruined crossbows and silver-tipped bolts. She was certain they had been compelled by Hanner. For as soon as she’d died, her control over them had vanished, as well. Yes, Hanner, my-one time drinking companion, was dead. The demon within her wasn’t dead, of course. No, I had seen the black shadow pour from her dying mouth, to disappear into the ether, to one day find a new host.
Now Allison was off seeking help for Danny, and keeping in telepathic contact with me, too. At the moment, she had just made it to the parking lot, but she didn’t have cell reception there either. I had given her my keys. She was just now getting into the minivan.
“I made so many mistakes, Sam,” Danny said.
“I know.”
He coughed. “Jesus, you didn’t have to agree so fast.”
“Well, you were a jerk and a moron and—”
“No name calling, remember? I know I screwed up.”
“Royally,” I said.
“I was afraid, Sam. Afraid of you. Afraid for my life. I mean, I had no idea that such things existed.”
“I’m not a thing, Danny. I was your wife. That was always your problem. You made me into a monster. I wasn’t a monster, and you know it. I was fighting it and winning, and you abandoned me, abandoned us.”
As I spoke, I couldn’t help but notice his aura had darkened some more, and a deep, rich blackness was creeping through what had once had some color.
He coughed harder than before. He kept on coughing, and as he did so, the darkness kept spreading.
“Ah, Danny. I’m sorry this happened to you.”
“I asked for it, Sam. And don’t you dare save me. Don’t you dare make me like you. Please.”
“I won’t, Danny.”
He coughed harder than ever, and then lay back, wheezing. “I didn’t know what I was doing, Sam. Hanner promised me she would help me get the kids back.”