"No!” Jason jumped up, shaking away the lingering tingle of the power. He rushed forward, ready to grab Amelia when she fell, but she didn't fall.
She was suspended in the air, hanging so that her feet dangled a good half a foot from the ground. Her back was pressed to the trunk of the tree and her eyes were wide, frightened. Jason could smell the fear-scent coming from her.
She was paralyzed, held there by Quenten's power. A tiny, scared whimper sounded from her and Jason went into a rage.
"Stop it, you cowardly bastard,” Jason shouted into the trees. He spun around, trying to find Quenten in the darkness. His night vision cut through the shadows, but there was nothing there. He sniffed the air, but couldn't detect Quenten's scent. “I'm right here!"
Jason felt the chill of the power wave before it hit him a third time. It wasn't enough warning and he was thrown back again. He was, however, able to brace himself for the impact. When he hit the next tree and fell, he was able to get right back up.
He balled his hands into fists, wildly looking about. Quenten was nowhere to be seen, but he had to near. How else could he be doing this?
As if to answer his question, he heard laughter in his head.
How do you like my little trick?
"I've seen better,” Jason said aloud. He looked around, but there was no way he could determine where Quenten was. If he could get him to talk out loud...
I'm not that stupid, Quenten's silent answer came. He was in Jason's head again. That just made him even more enraged.
"Show yourself, you fucker."
Jason took a deep breath, trying to will his anger back down. The wolf wanted out, but Jason wasn't ready to shift just yet. He wanted to find Quenten first.
He held his ground, waiting for another mental or telekinetic attack, but nothing happened. Jason didn't let his guard down. He knew the moment he did, Quenten would be on him. It wasn't a risk he was willing to take.
A snapping twig made Jason jump and he spun quickly in the direction it came from. He peered through the darkness. Something emerged from the shadows, but it wasn't human. He sniffed the air and caught the distinct scent of werewolf and the lesser scent of vampire. And he smelled blood.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he stepped back, closer to the tree where Amelia was held suspended. He looked back at her. Amelia's eyes, the only part of her body able to move, stared in the direction of the noise.
A low growl sounded from the creature, now emerging nearer to them. Jason turned his full attention to it.
Jason knew this was Quenten, but he couldn't believe it. The blood had produced strange effects on him. The werewolf blood had caused him to become something that didn't even look human. The best Jason could identify it with was the half shifted were form that came between human and full wolf.
Quenten stepped out on feet that were much too elongated to be human. Hair, longer and thicker than before, covered the top of his head and his arms. His hands were no longer hands, but terrible claws. His face didn't resemble either wolf or human. It was grotesque, the jaw and nose elongated into a partial snout. Jason could understand why he was using his thoughts to communicate and not his voice.
Teeth that were sharp and jagged, much longer than Jason thought could be possible, and they tore through what was left of Quenten's lips. Blood dripped from his half muzzle, down his chin. Every inch of his face and neck was hidden in a bushy beard of black, unruly hair. His eyes were yellow, feral. The clothes he wore were blood-soaked, muddy and torn.
Jason had never seen anything like it and he didn't want to admit it, but it frightened him. The smell of his fear must have been strong because the creature stopped and sniffed. A guttural growl came from it—his—throat.
What is that I smell? Is that ... fear? Another sniff. Mmm ... I like this smell.
"You would, you bastard,” Jason said with a growl of his own.
If only I knew of this sooner, Quenten went on inside Jason's head, oblivious to the barbs Jason quipped at him. I would've injected myself a long time ago.
"You don't know what you're doing,” Jason told him. Quenten took a step forward, but Jason didn't flinch. “You can't possibly control this. There's no way."
I thought that at first, too. When I got out of the van, I ran into the woods. The sun was blistering—an effect from the vampire's blood, I was sure. It made me weak, unable to move ... but I knew you were close. I felt your magick and hers. His eyes moved hungrily to Amelia, then back to Jason. So I waited. Night fell and I was rejuvenated, stronger. That's when I knew I could handle these new powers. I should've done this sooner, but I had to experiment, you see ... but you left me no choice.
Jason stopped listening ignoring the voice in his head. That's why he hadn't come after them in the day time. He had been weakened by the sun. Jason wondered on this as Quenten stepped forward again. Just what other weaknesses did he have? Surely being in a half shifted form and unable to speak was one, but what else?
Amelia made another whimper behind them and Quenten's feral gaze shifted back to her. His mouth hung open in a slobbering grin. Jason narrowed his eyes.
"Stay away from her,” he commanded. “You've done enough."
I'm not through with her yet, or with you. I need more blood. He licked his lips. Jason felt another tremble of fear and anger quickly replaced it. Was blood lust another weakness from the vampire genes? The thought was quickly dispelled with Quenten began laughing in his head.
Blood lust? Hardly. I need your blood and hers to make more of my kind. I need your blood and then I'll go back to the lab. He said “my” as if he were his own species, and not a genetic mutation of the supernatural. I need you two alive ... or not. He eyed Jason. I just need your blood.
He lunged before Jason had time to think of a retort. He could only react, holding up his arm to fend off Quenten's attack. Quenten moved in a flash of fur and fang, colliding with Jason. His claws dug into the flesh of Jason's arm and Jason couldn't help but scream as pain sliced through him.
Quenten's weight caused Jason to fall back and his sudden attention to him was enough for the scientist to release his psychic hold on Amelia. She fell, gasping as she hit the ground. Jason only caught a glimpse of her before he kicked Quenten squarely in the gut and rolled out from under him.
His arm was shredded, blood oozing all over him as he clutched it to his chest. He moved toward Amelia, grabbing hold of her with his good arm.
"You have to get out of here,” he hissed to her. “I can't risk him coming after you.” He turned, seeing Quenten climb to his feet. He shoved Amelia away. “Go,” he said sternly.
Amelia stumbled back against the trunk of the tree, but Jason didn't have time to yell at her. Quenten lunged for another attack, and Jason met him this time. Putting his good shoulder into it, he shoved toward Quenten. It was enough pressure to throw Quenten off balance. As he stumbled back, Jason bent, and used a sweeping kick to knock him to the ground.
"Go back to the car!"
"I'm not leaving you,” she shouted back. Jason didn't look back at her. There wasn't time.
"There's nothing you can do,” he said, keeping his gaze fixed on Quenten. He moved quickly, stripping off his shirt and slipped out of his shoes. He shucked off his jeans and stood in the nude.
Quenten was up and more pissed off than ever. He narrowed his eyes at Jason and the invisible force that hit him sent him once more flying back. This time, Jason was able to somewhat direct himself. Instead of hitting a tree, he landed, partially bent, skidding through the dried leaves. He dug his heels into the earth until he stopped.
"Okay, I am getting fucking tired of that,” Jason said in a low voice. He wasted no more time. He called on the wolf.
The shift, a normally painful experience for him, was like a blessing. He relished in the familiar burn as his muscles contracted and expanded. His bones changed their shape, popping and elongating as they regrew. He hunched over as his spine curved and a tail
sprouted. Hair and fur grew all over his body. A few moments later, he was wolf and he was pissed.
Quenten saw the change and growled as he took a defensive stance. But Jason didn't attack. He held his ground and waited for Quenten to make the first move.
Jason had anticipated correctly. Quenten dropped to all fours and used his newfound strengths to charge at him. Jason waited until Quenten was just inches before him before he attacked. Quenten had bared his throat as he turned to claw and bite at the wolf, but the wolf had been in this situation before. He knew what to do.
As Quenten dug his claws into the wolf's shoulders, Jason turned, his jaws opening and closing on his thick neck. His bite strength was powerful, crushing. He could taste the salty blood, flavored with the distinct tang of were and something spicier. Vampire perhaps? The wolf wasn't sure, but he liked it.
He clamped down harder on Quenten's throat. He didn't pay much attention to the pitiful gurgling coming from the creature, nor did he acknowledge the flailing of his legs or the pressure on his shoulder as Quenten tried to escape.
A little more pressure and the wolf felt the neck snap. He released his strong hold on his throat and lapped at the blood oozing from the crushed jugular.
A delicious shiver went through him. Quenten was dead and his life blood was Jason's.
He pulled himself away from the body, stepped back. He licked his muzzle and turned. The scent of fear was strong all around him. He sniffed the air. It wasn't the dead Quenten. It was...
His stare met Amelia's and he lowered his head in shame. The horrified look on her face and the stink of fear permeated the air around them. Tears leaked out of her eyes.
Jason backed away and willed himself to change. The shift back to human went a little smoother but was no less painful. He remained kneeling, blood covering his entire body. Deep wounds lined his shoulders and his arm was pretty much shredded. They would heal and the scars would fade, but he would never forget the look on Amelia's face.
She broke her stare from her son, and turned to Quenten's dead body. He twitched once. His blood had already begun to sink into the earth. She narrowed her eyes at him and the fear was gone, replaced by anger.
"May you burn in hell, Samuel Quenten."
Jason stood, stepping away from the body. He was unashamed of his nakedness and didn't bother to cover himself, but he did clutch his throbbing, painful arm close to his body. To his amazement, Quenten's body was levitating a few inches from the ground. Blood dripped from his torn throat.
He turned his attention to Amelia. She was staring at Quenten with such anger that if she had been a werewolf, her eyes would've been golden. Instead, her eyes were narrowed and Jason felt the hiss of power coming from her. She was levitating him.
Without any hesitation, she mentally flung his body through the woods, smacking him into the closest tree. The force was strong, so much that Jason heard the cracking of his spine as Quenten connected with it.
Then the body slumped to the ground and lay there, in its final resting place until someone perhaps found him.
Amelia let out a breath and sank back against the tree she stood near. Jason approached her. He offered her his bloody hand, but thought better of it.
"It's over,” he said softly. “Quenten is dead."
"I know,” she said. She looked up at him, then away quickly. The fear had returned.
"Don't be afraid,” Jason said quietly. “It's who I am."
"I've lived my whole life wondering about my son. Now, I know him. I must say ... your power as a werewolf is amazing. I had never seen anything like it. You were so wild, animalistic."
"It comes with the genes,” Jason said. Speaking of jeans, he thought. He looked around until he found his clothes and began to redress. Amelia looked away, staring at Quenten's body.
"I know. I had just never seen it before. It was so ... violent."
Jason slipped his shirt on. “You used violence,” he noted. “I thought you didn't like it.” Amelia looked at him, then away, but he could see the tiny grin on her face and he lifted an eyebrow as he slipped on his shoes.
"I don't,” she said. She turned back to Jason. He had finished getting dressed. Amelia approached him and touched his uninjured arm softly. “But he was already dead. I couldn't see the harm."
The situation was too serious, and laughing seemed wrong, but he couldn't help it. Amelia seemed to second his emotions and she grinned.
"I guess I can see where I got my sense of humor,” Jason remarked. The laughter and smiled died and the mood turned somber. They both looked to Quenten's broken body.
"I'm not afraid, Jason,” Amelia said. “I understand it's who you are. It's your blood. It was just a shock and yes, I was scared then ... but not now."
"I'm glad,” Jason answered. The fear smell around her had dissipated and so had the look, but he would remember it for a very long time. There was silence once again, before Amelia sighed, tiredly.
"Do you think anyone will find him?” she asked.
"Hopefully not soon,” Jason answered He looked down at his bloody arm. It was slowly starting to heal. “But we should get out of here all the same."
Amelia nodded. “I'll drive. I think you need to rest."
Jason had to admit, it sounded like the best idea he had heard in ages. Without the need to worry about Quenten, he could rest.
Finally.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chunky Monkey ice cream had never tasted so good, and before Rose knew it, she was scraping the bottom of the carton. She looked down at it in dismay.
Cheyenne, sitting beside her, started to laugh.
"That look on your face was priceless. You looked so disappointed."
"I am disappointed.” She looked over at Cheyenne, seeing she still had half a pint of her Phish Food. “But not as disappointed as you will."
Cheyenne's smile faded into confusion before Rose reached over and snatched the pint of ice cream from her hand.
"Hey!” Cheyenne protested, but she was smiling again. Rose took a generous bite of the ice cream and moaned.
"Mmm, marshmallow."
Cheyenne shook her head. “You're lucky I like you or else I'd have to fight you for it."
"You should never fight with a pregnant woman, especially a pregnant werewolf,” Rose said with her mouth full. “You won't win."
Cheyenne chuckled as she stood up and stretched. It was late. They had watched the first movie and Cheyenne began rummaging through the rentals for their next pick.
"What do you want to watch now? I was thinking Bringing Down the House. Queen Latifah is hilarious in it."
"Sure, pop it in.” She took a larger bite of ice cream and let it melt in her mouth. She watched as Cheyenne opened the rental case and popped out the DVD. As she put it in the player, Rose wrapped the afghan around herself.
She thought she was doing good being lighthearted. She had stared at the television, but she didn't really watch the movie. Her mind was elsewhere.
The movie was in and the title screen was loading. Cheyenne turned, gathering up the empty ice cream carton and the dirty plates. “I'm taking these to the kitchen. Want something to drink while I'm up?"
"No, I'm fine.” Rose took another bite of the ice cream, once again letting it set in her mouth. She listened to Cheyenne's footsteps as she walked her way through the house. She swallowed after she heard the clank of plates hitting the sink.
This was the time. She realized if she was ever going to bring it up tonight, it was now.
She took a deep breath and pushed the afghan aside. Carefully she made her way out of the living room and crossed the foyer into the dining room. When she entered the kitchen, Cheyenne was putting ice cubes into a glass. A pitcher sat on the counter—iced tea, by the smell and look of it—with condensation beading down the glass.
"Did you want a glass after all?” Cheyenne asked. She poured herself a glass. “You could've just holler
ed."
"I could've, but I didn't want to.” Rose opened the freezer and put the rest of the ice cream away. It was quickly collecting in a cold lump in the pit of her stomach and she didn't want it any more.
She shut the freezer door and turned. Cheyenne held out the glass to her, but Rose waved it away.
"No, thanks."
Cheyenne nodded and took a sip of it. Rose moved out of her way as she put the tea back in the fridge. She sat down at the table and looked down at her hands. “Cheyenne?"
"Yeah, hon?"
"I need to talk to you about something."
Cheyenne paused in front of the fridge, the door still held slightly open. She appeared to be collecting her thoughts. Rose only hoped she hadn't changed her mind about talking to her, listening.
"Really?” she asked, as if she didn't believe her. She closed the fridge door and turned, staring at Rose seriously. “You're ready to talk? Finally? I don't believe it."
"Believe it.” Rose took a deep breath. Don't chicken out now, she told herself. You can do this. Just get it over with.
Cheyenne took a seat across from her. “What is it, Rose?"
The familiar, panicky feeling started in Rose's chest and stomach. She felt her dinner start to rise but she swallowed it back down.
"I really don't know where to begin,” she started, hating the trembling in her voice. Even her hands trembled. She didn't think she would be this twisted up over it. She folded her hands together and focused her attention on them. For some reason, she couldn't look Cheyenne in the eye now.
"Just take your time. You know I'm here to help, with whatever you need."
Rose nodded, but didn't look up.
"Okay, I guess I could start to before I became pregnant. Back when Simon—” She choked on his name. “Back when Simon was still alive."
"Before Jason left,” Cheyenne added. Rose nodded. She looked up at her and met her eyes. Cheyenne watched her expectantly, her eyes unblinking. Rose took a deep breath and looked away again.
"Before Jason left,” she repeated. “Right.” She let out the breath she had been holding.
Dark Moon Magick [The Moon Series: Book 4] Page 29