Black Fall (The Black Year Series Book 1)

by D. J. Bodden

  Jonas felt his stomach churn. He’d stunned the werewolf so Frank could knock him out and use the flash on his partner. He’d killed someone.

  “You don’t look too upset about it,” Frank said.

  The werewolf with the damaged face shrugged. “Never said I liked him. The bloodsuckers treat us like cannon fodder, most of the-"

  The werewolf’s complaint was interrupted by a ripple of sharp cracks and flashes from the bushes around them. Jonas and Amelia hit the ground, and Frank drew one of his pistols, firing several times. When the shooting was over, all the Order vampires and werewolves were dead – turned to ash or riddled with silver bullets. Then Edwards and the other four hunters that Jonas had left at his apartment stepped out from the bushes.

  “Get away from him, he’s changing!” Edwards said.

  Frank immediately grabbed Amelia and pulled her toward the hunters.

  Jonas spun around. Kieran was on his hands and knees, his body convulsing, as white fur sprouted from his skin. Edwards raised his weapon.

  “Don’t!” Jonas yelled, stepping between them.

  Edwards moved sideways, weapon still raised, trying to regain his line of sight. “Get out of the way, kid!”

  There was a sudden tearing sound, and Kieran howled. It sounded like a wolf’s howl, but had a deeper note that made Jonas’ bones ache. Some of the hunters clutched their ears, and Edwards stumbled back.

  There are twenty-three werewolves heading this way at top speed, Madoc broadcasted to them all. I suggest you put your weapons away and try not to look threatening.

  Eugene shrugged and let his gun hang from the sling. Frank holstered his pistol. Billy and Steve still had their guns pointed at Kieran.

  “Put ’em away,” Edwards snapped, tucking his own weapon under his coat. Reluctantly, they did as they were told.

  Kieran stared at them calmly. His eyes were glowing bright blue. He looked like a tall, muscular man — like a Greek statue — but covered with white fur instead of bare skin. He had the head of a wolf, double-jointed legs — or just really long feet, Jonas thought — and a white tail that hung from his lower back to a few inches above the ground. His claws gleamed silver in the moonlight.

  Amelia gasped and partially hid behind Jonas, clutching his arm in a death-grip. Not that he could blame her. She’d seen nine people killed in the space of a few seconds, her ex-boyfriend was a vampire, and her new friend had just turned into a six-foot-tall white wolf.

  “I never thought…” Frank’s voice trailed off. Then he looked over at Jonas, swallowed, and said, “Never thought I’d see one of those and live to tell about it.”

  There was rustling in the bushes and trees, as if the wind was blowing, yet the pond was so still that Jonas could see the moon reflecting off the water like a mirror. Gleaming yellow eyes stared at them from the darkness, then Phillip and Leticia Macready dropped from the trees branches and walked toward them, fully-clothed and in human form.

  “Jonas,” Phillip said. It was a statement, not a greeting. “Director Fangston warned me that you and your mother had gone dark, but this? You kidnapped Kieran, and you’re working with hunters…” He knelt near one of the werewolf bodies. “I don’t know how many of your own kind you killed tonight, but these were juveniles, Jonas. They should be home with their families.”

  Jonas opened his mouth to protest, but Kieran spoke first. His voice was low and guttural. “You’re mistaken.”

  There was a palpable silence, and Jonas thought the yellow eyes of Phillip’s pack flared brighter. Leticia looked horrified. Phillip froze in place, muscles tense, and turned toward his son.

  “You understand what you’re doing?” Phillip said. “You’ve been away from your family for some time, I would understand if you—”

  “I know what I’m doing, Phillip,” Kieran said.

  Jonas heard Frank inhale sharply, and the trees rustled, as the other werewolves moved closer. Then two stepped out of the shadows and another three dropped from a nearby tree. They were all in wolf form, walking upright, covered in brown or black fur. Each had four-inch-long, jet-black claws, and their eyes glowed yellow. Moving forward in a slight crouch, like wrestlers, their lips lifted into snarls, revealing mouths full of sharp teeth. One was significantly larger than Kieran.

  “Get behind me, kid,” Frank whispered, “and when I say run, you grab Amelia and high-tail it out of here as fast as you can.”

  The biggest werewolf growled and shoved two of its siblings out of the way.

  “Are all the males this aggressive?” Jonas whispered.

  “The big one isn’t a male,” Frank replied.

  The big female — Jonas didn’t know how Frank could tell — snapped at the others, and they halted in their tracks, leaving her to face Kieran alone.

  “Stay back, you idiots! Did you not listen to me as children? He’s a winter wolf!” Phillip snarled. All five werewolves whined and retreated several steps.

  Seeing the members of his pack — his children, if Jonas understood correctly — back down, Phillip hung his head and sighed.

  “Husband, you can’t possibly intend to—”

  “That’ll do, Lettie. We had an agreement, remember? I raise Kieran the way I choose.”

  “He’s a child!”

  “He’s the man you and I made him,” Phillip said, with a chuckle. He looked at Kieran; the white werewolf was looking at his hand, fingers curled inward, like a woman admiring her manicure. His claws gleamed silver in the moonlight.

  “What’s happening?” Jonas said quietly, feeling his pulse pounding in his chest.

  Frank leaned toward him. “Junior pack-members don’t contradict the alpha. Your friend just challenged Phillip Macready for leadership of his pack.”

  Phillip heard Frank’s comment, and said. “You’re well educated for a hunter.” Then he turned back to Kieran. “I knew this day would come, you know? Groomed you for it. I just thought it would happen when I was done teaching you, surrounded by your family. Not in front of strangers.”

  “You’re stalling, father,” Kieran said, speaking softly.

  Phillip nodded. “So be it.”

  “Get ready to run,” Frank whispered to Jonas, and reached for his pistols.

  CHAPTER 22

  There was no pause. In one fluid movement, Phillip launched himself through the air, changing mid-jump, his clothes splitting in an explosion of claws and teeth. Nearly 250 pounds of fur-encased muscle and bone slammed into Kieran, knocking him to the ground.

  “Jonas!” Amelia said, digging her fingernails into his arm. “We need to go!”

  But Jonas didn’t respond. He was frozen in place, watching the confrontation unfold. Phillip’s attack had been lightning fast, and Kieran’s chest and abdomen were now scored with deep, jagged cuts. As the winter wolf scrambled back to his feet, Phillip circled for his next attack, the claws on his hands and feet dripping black blood.

  Frank, wide-eyed, was slowly backing away with his pistol raised, but the circle of werewolves hadn’t broken. Amelia tugged on Jonas’ arm again, but he shook his head. Why is Kieran’s blood black? he thought.

  Phillip staggered, snarling, trying to wipe the blood off his claws. Kieran could have attacked, but instead he stood perfectly still, watching his father, while the wounds on his body visibly healed.

  Phillip coughed, his voice shaky, and said, “How was I mistaken, pack leader?”

  “What the-" Frank said, in disbelief.

  “Jonas, what just happened?” Amelia asked.

  “I think he has silver in his blood,” Jonas said, softly. Kieran overheard, glanced their way, and nodded.

  Leticia Macready looked like she wanted to scream, but she stood behind her husband and remained quiet.

  Kieran took a step forward. “It was Bert who kidnapped me, father. And the vampires who came after us were using those werewolves like hunting dogs.”

  “I’m not your father anymore, Kieran. I’m just—”

&nbs
p; “You are what I say you are,” Kieran said, his voice firm.

  Leticia snarled, and Kieran looked at her for the first time in the exchange. “Know your place!” he shouted. “How long did you defy him, in spite of all your preaching about the old ways? Would grandfather have tolerated this from his wife? From you?”

  She flinched. “No. I suppose he would have killed me for it, as you have the right to if—”

  “Enough, mother,” Kieran said, cutting her short. “The old ways are flawed. They’re chains we wrapped around ourselves during darker times. But just because something worked or didn’t work, centuries ago, is no reason to blindly follow it now.”

  All around them Jonas could hear the members of the Macready pack, moving in the bushes and trees, as they growled and muttered to each other. The five who’d stepped out earlier were arguing in hushed tones.

  Kieran turned to Phillip. “You’re my father. You sent me to the Agency to learn, and I did. I actually studied all of our laws, instead of simply ignoring them or blindly following them without understanding them. How long before one of them challenges me?” he said, pointing at his siblings. Four of them had stepped back, but one of them had already started to move toward Kieran.

  Phillip snarled and snapped at the standout, who whined and retreated. “Apparently, not long at all,” he said. Then he looked back at Kieran. “What do you intend to do, pack leader? Will you spill the blood of your brothers and sisters?”

  “I’m not your pack leader,” Kieran said.

  “What?” Phillip sounded genuinely confused.

  “I can’t be,” Kieran said, “A pack member can only start a pack of his own with the permission of his pack leader.”

  Phillip nodded. “Unless he wins that right by combat or surrender, which you—”

  “I wasn’t talking about you, father.” Kieran said, with a trace of mischief in his voice. Then he walked over to where Jonas stood. “There is a deer about two hundred feet that way,” he said, gesturing toward the trees. “I would like to hunt it.”

  Jonas looked up at the white tower of muscle, fur, and teeth, unsure of what was expected of him. But Kieran didn’t speak. He stood motionless, staring into the trees, his blue eyes gleaming.

  Frank nudged Jonas. “He’s asking you for permission.”

  “Um… sure, go for it,” Jonas said, stepping back as if to clear a path.

  “Can he do that?” Phillip asked his wife.

  Leticia closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “He can’t leave your pack unless you expel him — which we arguably did by sending him to the Agency even if we never formalized it. If he then challenged you as a member of-"

  “It’s legal,” Kieran said.

  “Had this all planned out, did you?” Phillip asked.

  Kieran shrugged. “I didn’t foresee everything being so dramatic. I hoped you’d be reasonable.”

  “And if I hadn’t been? Or your siblings?”

  Kieran shrugged. “I’ve been dosing with silver nitrate for two years, to create these,” he said, wiggling his claws. “The results would have been… predictable.”

  “That’s very… traditional of you, son,” Leticia said.

  “I was never weak, Mother,” Kieran said, scanning the glowing eyes that surrounded them. “Do you hear me? I’m not weak!”

  “I think they know that, now, son,” Phillip said.

  Kieran hugged his father. Then, to Jonas’ surprise, he hugged his mother as well, and whispered something in her ear. He was careful not to touch either them with his claws. When he pulled away, Jonas saw tears running down Leticia’s cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away. Then Kieran gave Jonas one last look, crouched, and leapt into the dark.

  Frank suddenly spoke, breaking the silence, and startling Jonas. “Mr. Macready? My boys should probably start cleanup, shell casings and the like. We can’t get everything, but no reason to cause a ruckus if we don’t need to.”

  Phillip nodded. He opened his jaws and made a deep, rumbling sound. “Go home!” he growled. There was rustling, and the pairs of yellow eyes disappeared, one by one. As the other five werewolves, the ones who’d stepped forward to challenge Kieran, also turned to leave, Phillip said, “Not you, geniuses. Pick up the bodies and scatter the ashes while your mother and I finish with adult matters.”

  One of the werewolves groaned and another shoved him. They threw the bodies on their shoulders like sacks, grumbling, pushing, and nipping at each other, like the brothers and sisters they were. Billy, Steve, Jim, and Eugene went through the bushes, bending occasionally to pick up the small pieces of brass that littered the scene. Edwards and Frank stayed where they were.

  “Jonas!” Phillip said. “Looks like I won’t be killing you and your… friends, after all - probably unwise, now that you have a winter wolf in your pack. I suspect this also makes you my clan leader, doesn’t it, Lettie?”

  Leticia bit her lower lip and nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” Jonas said. “I’m not sure what all this means.”

  “Oh, I suspect my son, the lawyer,” Phillip said, rolling his yellow eyes, “will let us know in his own time. For now, though, back to business. Who did this?”

  “The Order of Shadows,” Jonas said.

  Leticia frowned and looked at her husband.

  Phillip’s ears perked up, and he lolled his tongue. “That’s just an old story, Jonas. The Order—”

  “Director Fangston is demon-possessed. That’s why you’ve been smelling sulfur around the agency, and why a lot of other strange things have been happening.”

  Phillip looked at Jonas, Frank, and the other hunters. “I see. Well, trust a vampire to go for something theatrical. That why you’re keeping the present company?”

  Jonas nodded.

  Phillip thought for a moment. “A lot has happened in the past few days, and we need to talk. Only, as you can imagine, I have a bit of unrest in my house that needs taking care of. I also need a change of clothes. Do you mind if I come by your apartment tomorrow?”

  Jonas knew, because of what had happened in the last ten minutes, Phillip Macready was technically asking him for permission. He also knew not to push it, and that Phillip had a habit of understating things. No doubt he would have to forcefully reassert his leadership. Hopefully, no one would die in the process. “Sure, tomorrow’s fine,” he said, looking out at the surrounding darkness. “Will Kieran be okay?”

  “He’ll be fine. He’s already caught the deer,” Phillip said, sniffing. Then he stopped, and said, “You remember Ryan and Sean, the twins? I could have them follow Kieran — giving him a respectful amount of distance, of course — and make sure nothing happens.” He glanced at Leticia, “We could even have them bring an old set of clothes for him. Morning after the first night is always a little embarrassing.” He wagged his eyebrows.

  Jonas smiled. It was good to hear Phillip joke again. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

  “I’ll make sure it happens,” Leticia said.

  Edwards walked over to Jonas, moving slowly and keeping his hands visible. “We should probably get back to the apartment. I’ll have Eugene take the young lady home,” he added, and Jonas was surprised to see Amelia was still there, sitting on a bench, holding her arms and looking at the ground while the older hunter talked to her in a low, calm voice.

  Phillip nodded. “See you tomorrow, Jonas. You might see one or two of mine around the neighborhood, keeping things safe,” he said with a wink.

  Jonas scanned the area as they turned to leave. The bodies were gone. Besides some clothing and shoes the homeless would take by the time the sun came up, only some ash and a few bloodstains remained. He wondered if anyone would notice.

  ♚

  It was almost a normal Sunday, Jonas thought. Well, except for having a house full of armed men. Three more had arrived overnight. Six had taken over his parents’ room, while Frank slept in the other bedroom with Jonas, since he’d appointed himself Jonas’ p
ersonal bodyguard. Edwards stayed at his own place, and Frank said four others were staying there as well, bringing the total number of hunters up to thirteen.

  Around 6 a.m., Jim shook Jonas awake. “Good morning! Friend of yours just showed up.” Then he turned and walked off toward the kitchen.

  Jonas groaned and rolled over in his bed. He didn’t feel rested at all. Remembering what Viviane had told him – the key to a strong barrier being about consistency and choosing your own rules – he’d spent half the night with Sam, training his guardians like a real army. He didn’t have the cuts and bruises his dream-self had sustained, but he still felt beat up, probably because he’d only gotten a few hours of sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he looked down at the floor. Frank was still lying on his bedroll, but his eyes were open. “How does Jim do that?”

  “Do what?” Frank said, yawning.

  “He’s always so… cheerful.”

  “Well,” Frank said. “I figure Jim would tell you if you asked, which might be an answer in and of itself, because most hunters wouldn’t…” He paused and stared at the ceiling, collecting his thoughts before continuing.

  “He was with a team of hunters, five years back,” Frank said, sitting up and stretching. “Ran into what the Agency calls a ‘rogue puppeteer’ — a powerful vampire that can control several people at once like they’re his evil hand puppets or something. Anyway, Jim and four other guys, all friends from when he was in the Army, track this thing down to its lair.”

  “How?” Jonas asked.

  “Puppeteers leave a trail,” Frank said. “They tend to rearrange life the way they think it should be, so you look for patterns or coincidences. Like a neighborhood or a small town that starts acting out a popular TV show. Or maybe something more subtle, like a newspaper article about an abused dog killing its master, or a bad cook choking on their own shitty food. Usually these things will be happening within a small area, because these vampires don’t travel much, and generally just have people bring stuff to them.”

  “Okay.”

  “Anyway, turns out the person who was leading them to the lair was one of the puppets. Jim and his buddies get caught, strung up like turkeys, and the vamp decides to have Jim cut his friends up, one at a time, over four nights. First night, Jim thinks it’s all a dream, right? Except there’s blood all over his hands the next morning, so he screams himself hoarse calling for help. Second night, same thing. Vamp’s laughing his undead ass off the whole time.”