Howling Shadows

by C. N. Owens

  “I’ve never slow danced before… not like this,” I say, and rest my hands flat on the swell of his chest.

  Lookin’ back… on the memory of… the dance we shared… ’neath the stars above.

  “You’re doing great,” he says, holding me tight to him, locking me in place with his hands clasped at the small of my back. “I got us a Christmas tree.”

  “I know! I saw that. I haven’t had Christmas in so long!” I say, remembering the giant tree I saw sitting in the bed of his truck. “I can’t wait to decorate it.”

  And I’m… glad I didn’t know… the way it all would end…the way it all would go…

  Trent looks up at his friend on stage and nods. “Good. It’s been a long time for me, too. I haven’t had a reason to celebrate anything, but now that’s all changed. That old house is warmer with you there. It finally feels like home.”

  I smile, having not felt at home the way I do now in years. “That makes me so happy,” I say. “Trent? I have to know. What does Cassie think about us?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t follow.”

  “Us,” I say again, and pat his chest.

  “I think she feels that you’re dangerous, and together, we're a disaster, but her opinion only goes so far with me.”

  I laugh, trying to hide the fact that I’m a little afraid of what he really means. “Now I’m the one that’s confused.”

  “It means, despite a promise I made to myself early on, and despite the risks, I want you in my life. I need you in my life… in some fashion.”

  “Good, you couldn’t get rid of me anyway.” I smile at his honest words. “How would you prefer to have me?” I ask facetiously.

  Yes, my life… is better left to chance… I could’ve missed the pain… but I’d have had to miss the dance…

  The song comes to an end. My ears ring in the quiet room. We study one another for what feels like an hour. People step around us on the way back to their tables. Their hair could be on fire, and I wouldn’t notice, nor would I care.

  “I have so much to tell you,” he says, in an odd way.

  “I have the rest of my life to listen,” I whisper with my chin still resting on his fingers. I grow winded, my heart pounds in my ears. I’m ready. I’ve wanted this for months, this man. He’s my beacon of light, my guide out of the dark wasteland of my life before. He’s shown me a way to live… how to be happy.

  He hesitates for a second. “I got you a present,” he says, and out of his pocket comes a long box.

  Inside is a silver necklace; a pendant hangs from it with several diamonds arranged in a strange fashion, connected by thin strips of silver.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Nothing… wanted to give you a gift is all.”

  “It’s beautiful. Does the pendant mean something?”

  “It’s a constellation,” he says while undoing the clasp.

  “Really? I love the stars.”

  “His name is Lupus… the wolf.” I lift my hair for him so he can put it on. He fixes the clasp and lets one of my loose curls slide through his fingers on the way back.

  Breathless, I touch my gift, trying to convince myself that it’s real and not a dream. “I love it, thank you. Can we find this constellation one night?”

  “I’ve never been good at finding them, but that’s why we have cell phone apps, right?” He laughs and gives me a nudge.

  “No one has ever been so thoughtful to me, Trent.”

  “It’s nothing. I wish I could do more,” he says and then, without another word, pulls me into him and presses my lips to his.

  I’ve been hoping for this all night. He hugs me tighter, and remembering to breathe, I let out a sigh through my nose. It was over in a flash, and he steps away and smiles. “Thank you for being here,” he whispers, letting his hands slide down my arms and stopping at my hands.

  I smile, feeling selfish. Even if things go bad between us, even if the world ends tomorrow, nothing can take that moment away from me. “What exactly does this place do for kids?” I ask.

  “Fundraisers, mostly. We do dinners, and of course, there’s live music. I cooked steak, shrimp, and little neck clams… there’s plenty left!” He takes my hand and drags me across the dance floor toward the bar. Wanting him again, I squeeze his hand, and as he turns, I rise onto my tiptoes and our bodies collide. I kiss him again, and he lifts me up, holding me in his powerful arms, but I could just as easily be floating. I cup his face in my hands and shudder, resisting the urge to wrap my legs around his waist when his tongue enters my mouth.

  My feet touch the floor again, and I hope I still have the strength to stand, unable to remember a time when I’ve felt so complete.

  “What was that for?”

  “I just wanted it, is that okay?” I smirk, fidgeting with the hem of my airy dress.

  “Absolutely.” He begins pulling me again toward the bar.

  “I’m starving, but can we eat at home?”

  “Of course, you okay?”

  “I’m fine, and this is great, but I just want it to be you and me tonight. Besides, we have a tree to decorate.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Okay, good. I need to stop at the bathroom first,” I say, still shaking from a combination of excitement and anxiety.

  Trent points to a door on the left. “Just over there. I’ll be waiting with Cassie.”

  ***

  Leila

  I hear the squeak of the door over the sounds of the toilet flushing, and I smell a strange scent, like musty old books.

  “Cass, that you?” I say. “You’re right. I never would have believed it if you hadn’t taken me here, but I like this place.” I step out of the stall and stop at the sink to wash my hands. I don’t think anything of Cassie’s silence until I look in the mirror.

  In the reflection, I see a man in a white dress shirt standing at the door. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you with him.”

  I take a step back and cover my chest with my arms. “Who are you?”

  “My name is David. You don’t know me, but I’ve heard a lot about you—the whore that Raoul lost. Tell me, what makes you so special?” He smiles, baring perfect white teeth and two fangs.

  “Vampire,” I say, turning from the mirror to face him. I now realize why he’s here. “I hope you brought help. I’m no ordinary girl.”

  “And I’m no ordinary vampire. How do you think I got in here undetected?”

  “I won’t go back.”

  “Oh, that’s exactly what you’re going to do.” He takes a step toward me, and I dive for the door. I scream when he grabs me, wanting to defend myself, but I can’t move—I’m terrified.

  “You are obviously intelligent. You escaped from Vlad and Tomas, two of Raoul’s best, and then to have come all this way.”

  “What does he have to do with them?”

  “He owned them; the same way he owned you.” A nauseatingly pleasant smile forms on his face.

  I let out a sigh as he touches my neck; his grasp is cold and unforgiving; his fingers could be made of marble. His body presses to mine, and I begin to feel dizzy and out of breath. Soon my eyes grow heavy, and I can’t hold them open.

  “No one owns me,” I whisper, knowing this is a trick.

  His cold fingers travel down my spine, making the surface of my skin tingle, causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end. I open my eyes, feeling as though I reentered my body, and look back at David. His arm is now around my back, holding me just under my left breast. His eyes dart away, and he appears confused, realizing that his charms aren’t working anymore. I push and squirm against him, slipping downward, but he grabs me again and flings me into the wall.

  I can already feel a knot forming on the back of my head. My vision is blurry, and I can’t focus on him when he lifts me up by the arm. Jerking my head to the side with a fistful of hair, he clamps down on my neck. His fangs dive throug
h my skin with a hot tearing sensation, biting deep and then releasing, and he begins to suckle. I am limp in his arms. My skin is growing hot, but I’m too weak. The beast is below the surface, begging to rise to my defense, but I lack the will to set it free.

  The vampire has me for what feels like hours, but all time seems to stand still in my daze. Whatever a vampire does to subdue its victim is fighting a battle against the beast within me, and right now, I’m losing. He releases seconds before I black out.

  “You're a werewolf.” He chuckles. “So that’s what all the fuss is about,” he says, looking like he could retch.

  I hear footsteps, then the bathroom door explodes, and Trent bulldozes in, nearly foaming at the mouth. He grabs the vampire by the shirt, slams his face into the mirror, and pushes him to the floor with so much force I hear the wood crack underneath him.

  Trent’s lips are curled into a demonic snarl; his arms and neck are blood red, coursing with swollen veins. Terrified, I push myself vainly against the wall as he drops a knee on the vampire’s chest, pinning him in place and pounding on him with his fists.

  “Who sent you?” Trent’s voice sounds hellish. He flicks a knife out and skewers the vampire’s neck with it, resulting in a terrible crunch.

  The vampire remains silent, other than to let out a moan. Trent removes the knife, spattering blood on the floor and wall behind him.

  “Speak!” he roars, carelessly sending streamers of saliva everywhere. He jams the knife into the creature’s stomach just below his ribs, and David lets out a wail as Trent’s hand dives into his body with a wet slurp.

  “Okay, okay!” the vampire cries out. Other than Trent’s rage-lined breaths, the room falls silent. “I was sent by the one who wants her, but I’m here to kill you.”

  “Why?”

  “You are the one man who stands in the way of destiny, and yet you play dumb. He wants you dead—you’re a threat to him.”

  “And he sends you. The coward,” Trent snaps back.

  “I’m just the beginning. He’s waiting for the right time, when the moon is full.”

  Cassie swoops into the bathroom, eyes wide, fingers outstretched like little white claws.

  “Pretty stupid of you to give away his plan,” Trent says.

  “Is it?” The vampire laughs. “There’s no way you can survive what he will bring down upon you and your… family,” he says, grasping at Trent’s wrist, which presses him to the floor.

  “Where is he now?” Trent asks.

  “In transit,” the vampire says.

  Trent lets out a roar and snatches David back up to his feet. “You run to your employer, and tell him I’m waiting.”

  David laughs, sounding shocked. “You’re letting me live?”

  “I’m no barbarian. This was just business, right?”

  David nods, still laughing.

  “Hey, are you left-handed, or right?”

  David stops laughing and shakes his head. “Are you serious?”

  Trent nods, still gasping for breath. “Curiosity,” he says with a grumbling voice.

  “I’m right-handed.”

  “Good.” Trent clenches his teeth and takes David by the wrist. Putting a foot on David's side for leverage, he rips David’s right arm off, and lets out another demonic roar. “Go back to Bento, show him what happens to messengers!” Trent flings his arm away carelessly and watches as the other patrons of the bar drag the wailing vampire out of bathroom, acting strangely nonchalant about what just happened.

  “Sorry, Trent,” one of the patrons says. “Cassie being here must’ve thrown us off.”

  “It’ okay, we’re safe,” Trent says.

  The room clears out, save for Cassie and a few others.

  “Jesus… Trent,” I say, still in disbelief of what he did. I stand and touch him; his skin is blistering hot. He jerks away and turns, and I gasp when I see his skin roiling from underneath, crawling, stretching and pulling back together. He wipes the blood away from his face, giving me a glimpse of a cut on his forehead. It’s healing before my eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Trent asks, and reaches for my hand.

  I pull away and step back, more out of fear than anything else. “No human is that strong. What are you?”

  Breaths still heaving, he turns and walks for the exit, but stops at Cassie, who is offering him what looks like a medical syringe.

  He shakes his head. “Not this time, I’m too far gone.”

  “Right.” She nods and shoots me a glance as she slips it back into her pocket.

  “Bento has a pack. We need to prepare,” he says before leaving.

  I move to follow him, but Cassie stops me. “Let him go,” she says. “He’ll need some time to calm down.”

  I nod and walk to the door, making my way out of the bar. Everyone around me is silent, their gaze intent. The majority of them is armed with a gun or a blade. “He’ll be back soon,” one of them says. “You’re welcome to stay with us, we’ll keep you safe.”

  “I can take care of myself, but thank you,” I say on my way out the door, confused and creeped out by the way they are acting.

  ***

  The ride home was silent, and I think Cassie was thankful for that. She slips into the living room, and I stop in the hallway, convinced I’m not going to let her upstairs until she talks.

  “I’m sure you are confused,” Cassie says after a full minute of silence.

  “I’m half-blind, but I still saw the needle you were trying to give him.”

  She pulls it from her pocket. “Yes,” she says, and places it in my hand. “Pentobarbital. It’s a powerful barbiturate; we’ve found it quite useful.”

  “For what?”

  “We carried it with us when we took you shopping, the same way I did tonight, to keep you from shifting and killing people unwittingly.”

  “I was fine, under control, and you were offering it to him, not me.”

  “There isn’t much I can tell you, other than we haven’t been entirely forthcoming with you.”

  “I deserve to know what’s going on.”

  Cassie steps out of her heels and walks toward me. “Leila, you need to talk to Trent.”

  I push her hands away and cross my arms. “I’m tired of these games. Why can’t you just come out and say it?”

  “Because to do so would break his heart. You want to know? Go and ask him. He hasn’t told you because he’s ashamed, not to play games.”

  Andrea steps into the living room, stopping at the entrance.

  “I’ve dragged him into caring for you, mostly against his will,” Cassie says. She turns and walks over to Andrea, wrapping an arm around her. “Go, get your answers. I’ve got work to do.”

  Chapter 26

  Trent

  Three days have passed. I’m not far away, but I’m hard to find. This is my hidden sanctuary—I call it The Bluffs. It’s buried deep in the woods on my property, in a small clearing at the head of a natural spring. There is a small sandy bank and, on the other side, a sheer wall of earth. I built a tiny cabin some thirty yards back at the opening to an oak grove, for the times when I can’t make it home before dark. That has only become a problem these last few years. Physically, I seem to be slowing down a lot.

  I left the other night knowing I was shirking my duties to her, but I also knew I wouldn’t be able to keep her away. So, it’s not a surprise when everything in the woods falls silent—no birds, no chatter of squirrels, nothing. They see something… the embodiment of corruption, and like a deer caught in the gaze of oncoming headlights, they don’t understand what they’re seeing, so they freeze in hopes of not getting its attention.

  I stand, look in the direction of the sounds of heavy footsteps, and grab my rifle, just in case. Seconds later, I realize it’s for nothing.

  “Took you long enough,” I say, just loud enough for her to hear me.

  “I didn’t want to bother you, but you’ve bee
n gone so long… I missed you,” Leila says with a cough, no doubt climbing out from the remains of her other form.

  I walk to the back of the tractor and leave my long-sleeve flannel shirt for her draped over the seat. “Cover up with this,” I say, and walk back to where I was sitting, in a folding chair at the bank of the spring.

  Behind me, I hear the crunch of grass drawing closer. “I like your tractor,” she says with a mocking country accent, and sits on the ground next to me.

  “Thanks a lot,” I say. “How long did it take you to find me?”

  Her delicate voice trembles with a sweet laugh. “Minutes. I know your scent. I could find you anywhere, anytime.”

  “I figured.”

  “Is that creepy?”

  “It’s instinct… out of your control.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  I take a breath and look out over the still, clear water, trying to carefully phrase my response.

  “You have a secret,” she says before I can answer, no doubt reading my thoughts. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “But you’ll find out anyway.”

  She hisses gently and pulls her knees to her chest. “I love it here, I see why this is your special place.”

  I don’t respond, still carrying on the same internal argument, trying to figure out what I’m going to tell her.

  “Would you like for me to leave?” she asks when I find myself unable to form a response.

  “No, please don’t. Tell me about your parents, you've never shared anything about them,” I say, hoping she will take the bait.

  “There isn't much to say,” she says and goes silent.

  “What did you want to be when you were a little girl?”

  She laughs and pushes her slimy hair behind her ear. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

  I look down at her and smile. “Tell me anyway.”

  She groans and stands. “I can show you,” she says and races to button up her shirt.

  I stand, and she gives me a silly smile before turning away from me, and then raises a leg straight in to the air.

  “Ballet. It’s all I ever wanted to do. Ever since I was four, I lived to dance,” she says, standing stock-still with her right foot pointed toward the heavens, the other perfectly balanced on the soft soil, and all of her exposed places modestly angled away from me. “I dreamed of performing in the Moscow ballet.”