“Thanks for that thought.”
“I'm just saying. Enjoy things as best you can, and don't let her get away.”
Kevin smiled and nodded at Victoria. They had nearly killed each other over the past day. Now he was getting life advice from her.
Rachel looked dejected as she reentered the living room.
“I have to go home,” she said. “My mom found out I skipped school, and she's not happy.”
“It's probably for the best, Rachel,” Victoria said.
Rachel flashed the vampire a dirty look. “If anything happens to Kevin-”
“Yeah, yeah. You'll come hunt me down with holy water and crosses.”
*****
Kevin and Rachel held hands next to her Mustang as Victoria carried a long case out of her house and locked up. He looked back and forth between the Mustang and Porsche. Everyone had a car, a cool car, except him.
“Be careful with her,” Rachel said. “She seems nice and all. But don't let your guard down.”
“You know she can hear you.”
“I know. I don't care.”
He laughed as he looked at Rachel. Completely fearless, willing to stand in between a vampire and him.
He hugged her and lightly pressed his lips to her ear.
“I had fun earlier,” he whispered.
She shivered, playing back earlier on the couch in her mind. “We have to do that more. I've never slept with anyone before.” She turned red at her choice of words. “You know what I mean, just sleeping. Well, I haven't done the other either, but...anyway, I'll shut up now.”
He laughed and gave her a long kiss.
“I'll be careful,” he said. “I'll tell Mister Hawkins you said hi.”
She shook her head. “Mister Hawkins. I can't believe it.”
“Me neither.”
“I'll have my rock with me, if you need anything.”
He nodded. “After tonight, we stop thinking about crazy things, and start thinking about Homecoming.”
Rachel let out a bright smile. “I can do that.”
He took the moment to admire her figure as she climbed behind the wheel of her Mustang.
Victoria put a hand on his shoulder as Rachel drove away. He didn't flinch. The gruesome images of a wounded Victoria, covered in blood and naked, devouring bag after bag of blood would never leave him.
But he no longer feared her.
“Homecoming?” she said.
“Yeah. It'll be my first one.”
She climbed behind the wheel of her Porsche. Kevin hesitated for a moment, admiring the car, before sitting next to her.
“I really am glad I didn't kill you last night,” she said as they pulled out of her driveway. “I felt guilty about it all night.”
“Martha said witches are hated.”
“They are. But that's a discussion for another day. Where am I going?”
Kevin guided her through town, and she parked in front a simple house. Nothing out of the ordinary jumped out at Kevin as they both climbed out of her car. A front lawn, truck in the driveway. A light in the living room was on.
“This doesn't look like the home of a werewolf.”
Victoria raised an eyebrow. “Does your apartment look like the home of a witch?”
“Well, I do have a black cat. And a broom. So, what's our next move?”
“We could try knocking on the front door.”
Victoria took the lead, walking up the three steps and ringing the doorbell. Kevin shifted his backpack to his other shoulder.
No one answered.
“Maybe your hacker buddy was wrong?”
“Oh no, he wasn't. I can smell the scent of wolf all over. This is his place.”
“What do we do? We can't just break in.”
Victoria looked around, making sure no eyes were on them.
“Sure we can. Watch.”
She pulled her arm back, ready to break down the door. Kevin caught her wrist, and gently moved her aside, a hint of a smile on his face.
He grabbed his apartment key in his pocket, and touched the locks on the door with his other hand. Victoria hid her surprise as she heard the locks turn.
“You're gonna have to get me a list of all the witch tricks you have,” she said.
“As soon as I figure it out myself, I'll let you know.”
Kevin laughed as they stepped into the living room. It was exactly how he pictured Mister Hawkins. A bookshelf with old literature was against one wall. A painting of Shakespeare hung over the couch.
Guilt crept in as he stood behind Victoria.
There was simply no way Mister Hawkins was anything besides a nerdy literature teacher.
A voice called out from the basement.
“Who the hell is in my house?”
Victoria smiled and looked out the front window. No moon yet.
“And there's our werewolf.”
“Victoria...do you go by Victoria? We have to be wrong. Mister Hawkins isn't-”
“Oh yes, he is. It's him, trust me. And if you want to be friends, yes, call me Victoria.”
“Friends with the woman who tried to kill me last night. What a thought.”
“Hey, weirder things have happened.”
Victoria followed her senses to the basement door. It creaked as she pushed it open. She hit the switch on the wall, bathing the stairs in light.
“Who are you? Get the hell out of here!”
“Mister Hawkins?” Kevin said.
Victoria glared at him and put a finger to her lips.
They slowly walked down the stairs. Victoria had a feeling of what she'd see, and she wasn't wrong.
Kevin gasped. Victoria held out her arm to keep him from walking further.
In the corner of the basement was a large cage, large enough to hold a person. Hawkins, completely naked, was testing a chain and padlock wrapped around the gate. Satisfied the gate would hold, he grabbed a towel from the floor and wrapped it around himself.
Kevin saw the stitches on his back.
“Kevin? Who's this woman? What are you doing here? You have no right. Please get out of my house now.”
“How's the back?” Victoria asked.
Hawkins narrowed his eyes.
“We know what you are.”
He looked at Kevin. “What's going on?”
“You've killed at least two people,” Victoria said. “We're here to make sure you don't kill anyone else.”
Hawkins' face took on a look of utter despair. A tear ran down his face as he leaned his head against the bars.
“I didn't mean to. Please believe me.”
“Tell us what happened.”
He took a deep breath and tested the chain on the gate one more time, a nervous habit he developed.
“Over the summer I went on a camping trip with some of my cousins, up in Virginia. I was skinny-dipping with a woman camping not far from us.”
Kevin laughed. “You, Mister Hawkins? Skinny-dipping?”
“Yes, Kevin. Sometimes adults do things like that. Anyway, we got attacked by something. I thought it was a wild dog or wolf, but obviously I was wrong. Tore the both of us up. I spent a week in the hospital, needed nearly one-hundred stitches. But I healed, and came home.”
“Then the full moon came up,” Victoria said.
He nodded. “I can't control it. I've tried everything. I tried going deep in the woods, hoping to be away from everyone. But I somehow found Paul and Donna, and...”
He wiped tears from his eyes and turned around a moment. Kevin got a better look at his handiwork. Fifteen or so stitches ran across his back under the shoulder.
“So, last night, I tried locking myself in this cage.” He gestured to Victoria. “Judging from the wound you gave me, I guess it didn't work.”
“Don't look at me. Look at your student here.”
“Kevin? You-?”
“I guess none of us here are what we seem, Mister Hawkins.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don't you think I've tried? You think I want this? I've tried to stop the change. I've tried to keep my mind. It just doesn't work. The pain starts, and I wake up in the middle of the woods naked somewhere.”
Victoria shook her head. “Walter, you've watched too many movies.”
“What do you suggest I do then, lady? What is your name, anyway?” His eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, I think I've seen you. Quick flashes, in my sleep. Did we...fight last night?”
“We all did. It was a grand old time. Call me Victoria. Now, what you need to do is simply not turn into a wolf. It's that easy. Mind over matter.”
“You're insane.”
“Walter, I'm being very serious. I know you didn't have another werewolf around to teach you, but it's true. You're in control. Watch, look at me.”
Hawkins gasped as Victoria extended her fangs, and retracted them, several times.
“See? Control.”
“Are you...a vampire? Like in the movies?”
“Let's forget any movie we've seen for a minute. Walter, just-”
Victoria went quiet as Hawkins howled in pain. He doubled over, clutching his stomach. When he looked up, his eyes were blood red.
“The moon's coming,” he said, his voice deeper.
Victoria reached through the bars and took Hawkins by the hand. Kevin stood still with his mouth hanging open.
“Fight it,” she said. “You don't have to change. It's the beauty of what we are. You're right, I am a vampire. But I don't kill people. Well, most of the time. You have a choice, too.”
Hawkins squeezed her hand and dropped to one knee. “I...can't...”
Kevin watched hair slowly cover Hawkins' body. He winced as bones broke and shifted, skin stretched, muscles ripped. Tears ran down Hawkins' face, which no longer looked human.
Kevin wanted to cry along with him. He took a step back and nearly vomited.
Victoria pulled her hand free and stood at Kevin's side.
“Silly bastard.”
Kevin said nothing, unable to move his head or blink. Hawkins, now two times the size of a normal wolf, charged the bars. They held, but Kevin flinched anyway. The whole basement seemed to shake. The wolf looked back and forth between vampire and witch with penetrating red eyes.
Victoria noticed the white sheet that was Kevin's face.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“My...literature teacher is a werewolf.”
“Yeah, and a rather weak one, too.”
Kevin jumped back as the wolf rocked the cage once again.
“Did you say weak?”
“He hasn't had a master to teach him anything. He's running simply off what he's seen on television. He's very dangerous, undisciplined, uncontrolled.”
She took a deep breath, and walked up the stairs, Kevin a step behind her.
“What are you doing?”
“I'm getting my blades from the car. We may have to kill him.”
“You want to kill my teacher?”
“What choice do we have? I certainly don't plan on staying in this town forever to babysit him. Do you want to do that?”
“Just teach him. You keep saying he just needs a master, someone to teach him control.”
“Do you think you can teach a werewolf?”
“Of course not. I'm not a werewolf.”
She grabbed her case from the back seat, and they started back to the house.
“In case you haven't noticed, neither am I.”
“Yeah, but aren't you, like, old? You can't teach him?”
“Watch your tongue, witch,” she said with a small smile. “I'm only thirty years old.”
“Whatever. Look, there has to be something else we can do.”
They descended the basement steps once again. Hawkins continued to growl and test the gate. Kevin's eyes went wide as Victoria opened her case and pulled out two dangerous looking short swords. They gleamed as the basement light caught the blades.
“I hoped I wouldn't have to use these. Didn't even bring them with me last night. I was hoping he'd listen to me.”
He grabbed her shoulder. “Victoria...”
“Kevin, this is the only way. He doesn't want to kill anyone else. But unless you want to go searching the mountains of Virginia for the werewolf that bit him, and hope he's not a feral werewolf, we don't have a choice.”
“Yeah, we do. We cure him.”
“Cure him? There is no cure, my young friend.”
She watched with surprise and curiosity as Kevin set his backpack down on a nearby workbench. He pulled out an old, stained book. She watched over his shoulder as he flipped through the pages.
“Here,” he said, tapping a page. “A cure for lycanthropy. Isn't that the fancy name for werewolf?”
“Again with the TV. But yeah, you can say that. What is this?”
“It's my spell-book. A witch's family hands this down and we add to it.”
She looked at the strange writing. She had seen many languages over her long lifetime, but none that were in Kevin's book.
“It looks like chicken scratch to me.”
“Only a witch can read or write it. It's a cure, Victoria.”
For all her centuries of being a vampire, it dawned on her that perhaps she didn't know as much about witches as she thought she did.
“There is no cure,” she said again, her voice raising.
He read to himself. “It's an old-school recipe, not modern at all. Gross as hell. We need six frog legs, two whole earthworms, some bones from a chicken, and...whoa...”
“What?”
“Some hair and blood from the wolf you want to cure, taken while he's a wolf.”
“Kevin, I've never heard such bullshit in my life,” Victoria said, rolling her eyes and pacing.
He met her gaze evenly, his eyes full of confidence. “I can cure him.”
“I know you're trying to do a good thing. But this isn't a smart idea. The vampire attack last year? This is how that all started. Some good people were trying to cure vampirism, and it turned into what you saw on You Tube.”
“I'm not gonna make a hundred werewolves, Victoria.”
She pointed at the book. “This is why witches are hated. Wild and reckless ones, like you, trying to do insane things, like cure werewolves. Your kind started the Black Death, Kevin, with your magic. This is a road you shouldn't be going down.”
“Let me try. Let me make the recipe. If it doesn't work, you can do whatever you want. I'm not wild and reckless. I just want to help my teacher.”
She looked at the young witch. There was no cure for anything supernatural. Modern day science had been trying for decades. If science wasn't successful, there was no way markings from a witch's book would help.
Magic was powerful, but not that powerful.
But there wasn't any harm in humoring Kevin. He would see it was pointless, and it would reign him in somewhat.
“Where the hell are you gonna get frog legs, and all that other crap?'
He smiled. “The lab in my school. I'll let you worry about the hair and blood.”
The wolf jumped at the gate again, rocking the cage. Victoria reached into her jeans and pulled out a set of keys.
“Take the Porsche. I'll wait here with our hairy friend.”
“Uh, take the Porsche?”
“Yeah. You can drive, right? Get what you need, and get back here. But Kevin, this isn't gonna work. And then we'll do it my way, alright?”
“Whatever.”
Chapter 21
Victoria couldn't believe she was doing this. She leaned against the workbench in Hawkins' basement with her arms crossed, watching as the wolf paced back and forth. He w
ould occasionally leap at the bars, shaking the cage.
“It's just me and you there, Walter. You'd better get used to my company.”
The wolf sat on his hind legs and howled. Victoria winced and covered her sharp ears.
“Would you shut up? Don't make me muzzle your silly ass.”
She paced in front of the cage, almost in time with Hawkins.
The events of the past day rolled through her mind.
She fought a witch, and not only did she not kill him, she was rapidly becoming his friend.
The witch, the most dangerous creature alive, made out with his girlfriend on the couch above Victoria's very head.
Now she was entertaining the witch in his ridiculous fantasy of curing a werewolf.
In the mid twentieth century, Victoria had seen a witch hypnotize an entire army of soldiers, nearly robbing them of their free will, simply by waving a flag, no doubt dipped in some kind of potion.
That witch was the personal aid of Adolf Hitler.
She knew the power of a witch.
But curing anything beyond a mortal, whether it is a vampire or werewolf, was impossible.
She should have killed Hawkins the moment he changed.
Probably should have already killed Kevin.
One of her greatest weaknesses, and strengths, was the fact she didn't always do was she was supposed to.
Both Victoria and Hawkins paused as they heard a knock at the front door above them.
“Great. Just beautiful,” she complained, looking at Hawkins. “Listen to me. If there's any part of you in there that can understand me, just keep your snout shut for five minutes.”
She walked back through the house and opened the front door. She dropped the personality she carried with her, and shifted into a thirty-year-old woman of the twenty-first century. It was a talent she'd mastered over the years.
Standing on the front porch was an attractive middle-aged man. She sized him up quickly. Good build, dark hair, strong personality, bright smile. A wedding ring, which meant if he went missing, someone would search for him.
“Well, hi,” she said, flashing a bright smile.
“Hello,” he said, extending a hand. “I'm Dan. I live next door. I haven't seen you before. Are you Walter's girlfriend?”
“More or less.” She gave him a wink. “Why do you ask?”
“We've been hearing some weird noises. My wife and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
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