by Dima Zales
“They probably took her power by the sounds of it. Anyway, the Hunter left a trail of mutilated bodies in their wake, horrifying the good witch. The next morning some angry townsfolk, who had been spying on them, tore her from her bed. She had no trial and was tied to a wooden pole at the centre of the village. They intended to burn her for the crime of witchcraft and murder, because they believed it was her that had really summoned the devils. As the flames grew around her, the Witch Hunter came back and saved her from the fire and took her far away from the angry mob to live out her days without fear of exposure. She married and had a family and passed the grimoire to her daughter.”
“It seems that the Hunter has a heart, at least,” Sam said absently.
“If you call tearing apart devils, mutilating their bodies and stealing witches power, having a heart, then we have a serious problem,” Gabby exclaimed, snapping the grimoire shut.
“Pfft, it's just a story,” scoffed Zac.
“It's meant to serve as a warning,” Gabby scolded. “One you would do well to heed.”
“Do it,” he said. “Damn the consequences.”
“No,” Sam said warily, shaking his head. “Rushing headlong into situations like this is what got us into this in the first place.”
“Can you banish a founding witch’s spirit for eternity, let alone find her?” he asked both of them. When they remained silent he said, “Thought so.”
“I'll do it,” Gabby sighed. “Just know that I'm reluctant, but I'm helping you anyway. You owe me, Zac.”
“And we thank you for that,” Sam said pointedly, understanding what Gabby was sacrificing to help them. Witches and vampires had been at war for hundreds of years; that they had become friends in the first place was a miracle.
“What do you need to do for the spell?” Zac asked, interrupting Sam.
“It's part potion and incantation,” she replied, reading through the pages again.
“Okay, so it's an outdoorsy thing,” he said.
“If you want. The spell will leave a calling card of sorts, attached to the place it was cast. It would lead the Witch Hunter here, if here was the place we chose to do it,” Gabby explained, leaving the choice up to the brothers.
“The old cemetery,” Zac said. “I don't want any witchy residue in the house.”
“I have to go get a few things. I will meet you there in an hour or so.” Gabby slipped the grimoire into her bag and made for the front door, not waiting for an answer. She hardly believed that she had been roped into helping them. When Liz found out, she'd be furious.
The cemetery was located on the edge of the main manor grounds, off to the side of the original plantation. Over one up hundred and fifty years, the land had been reclaimed by nature, the swampland encroaching back to its original form.
Most of the cemetery itself was overgrown; falling out of repair as the locals began to forget it ever existed. It was full of people who had died over a hundred and fifty years ago, many Degaud plots among the headstones, their family having been one of the first to have settled in the region. The cemetery was technically located on private property, which was mostly the reason for the lack of upkeep. A space was cleared at the centre, which Gabby had worked on herself months before the brothers had returned to Ashburton. It was the place she came to learn her powers and be alone.
The vampire brothers lounged in the afternoon sunlight. Winter was leaving and the humid summer months were creeping closer. Zac had hated the humidity of the swamps since he was a young boy. Travelling north with the Confederates had seen a summer that was devoid of air uncomfortably heavy with moisture, something he had never experienced before. Civil war had opened his eyes in more ways than learning how to kill a man. War had given his human life purpose when his life was a meaningless disappointment to his family and had given his new one the release he had needed.
“You know I have misgivings about this,” Sam said. “We have no idea what meddling with this ancient spell might do. Who it might be calling.”
“Well, too bad. What other option do we have?” Zac sat on a cracked headstone, his feet dangling over the edge, tapping on the side.
“We could find a stronger witch, find a way to deal with this ourselves.”
“Oh, c'mon. Even you're not convinced by that hair-brained scheme. It's written all over your face.” Zac folded his arms, detecting the hesitation in his brother’s plan. “A million bucks says you wouldn't leave in the first place.”
Sam sighed and cocked his head to the side, to let him know that Gabby was approaching. They would continue this later, no doubt. She strode into the cemetery, the grimoire in her arms and a bag slung over her shoulder. “Let's get this over with,” she said, getting right down to business.
They watched as she picked up a long stick and began to draw a rough pentagram in the dirt. Once it was complete, she placed the bowl in the center and poured a dark brown liquid into it from a plastic bottle. Sitting on the ground at the base of the pentagram, she drew her bag close and pulled out a hunting knife. “I need some of your blood. Who wants to do the honors?”
“Why?” asked Sam.
“Vampire blood must call vampire blood. It won't work another way,” she gestured for one of them to come forward.
“Fine. Use mine.” Zac held his hand out. The sooner this was over the sooner they could deal with the bigger issue. It wasn't the greatest feeling to be stalked by a rouge witch from beyond the grave. He'd done some horrible things in his time, but self-preservation was more tantalizing than repenting.
Gabby cut his hand with the knife and wasn't gentle about it either. Clenching his fist, he remained silent as blood dripped into the potion, sizzling as each drop collided with the surface, even though the liquid was cold.
“Now, read this while I do the incantation.” Gabby held out the translation of the spell she had written on a scrap of notepaper.
Snatching it from her he read the incantation and scoffed. “You witches just love your poetry.”
Gabby rolled her eyes. “It's what was written in the grimoire. Just read it and shut the hell up.”
Reluctantly, he began to read as she chanted in some old language they'd never heard before. Witch speak, most likely. “Blood of my blood, I summon thee, blood of my blood, I beseech thee, blood of my blood, in heaven and hell come save me.”
The potion burst into flames and they leaned away from the sudden heat and smoke.
“I guess that means it worked,” Gabby laughed nervously.
“If it worked where is the vampire?”
“It doesn't work that way, Zac. We put out the call, now we have to wait for an answer.” Gabby stood and began to gather her things.
“So we just go home and wait?”
“Yes, you wait. I didn't want to do this, just you remember that. And it’s all I can do, so you'll just have to be satisfied.”
“C'mon, Zac.” Sam started to walk away. “If the Witch Hunter wants to come, then they’ll come in their own time.”
He watched Gabby's receding form until she disappeared through the trees. Listening to the cemetery closely, he heard nothing but the normal sounds of the forest and Sam's heavy footsteps. How could he wait when he was the one being stalked by god knows what? He knew there was nothing he could do but follow his brother home and keep one eye open at all times. And that annoyed the hell out of him. Hesitantly, he followed Sam home.
4
Three days had passed since Gabby had cast the summoning spell and for three days nothing had happened. Zac was a very impatient vampire. Ironic, since he had all the time in the world. Strangely, he'd been more patient as a human and then it took a lot longer to get anywhere other than where you were.
“You know, I'm sick of all this waiting. There's got to be something we can do,” he sighed, looking out the window of the parlor into the garden.
“It's only been three days,” Sam said, glancing up from his book.
The front door slammed close
d, but neither of them looked to see who it was. They knew Liz was walking down the hallway.
“Are you going to tell her?” Zac raised an eyebrow at him.
“Are you?” Sam retorted.
“Where have you two been hiding the past few days?” Liz said, as she walked into the parlor. “Wait. Maybe I don't want to know the answer to that.”
“Then why'd you ask?” Zac grinned wickedly at her when she rolled her eyes.
“Where were you when I came looking on Sunday? I thought we were going to do something?” Liz asked Sam, who glanced to his brother, not knowing what he should say.
“We were out with Gabby performing blood sacrifices.” Zac winked at her, a mocking tone in his voice. “Why are you asking anyway? I know Gabby told you.”
“How’d you know?” she asked, confused.
“I didn't, you just told me.” He ducked as a cushion flew at his head.
Of course Gabby would tell her. They shared just about everything with each other and stood to reason she'd share this bombshell as well.
“When were you going to tell me?” Liz objected.
“I knew you'd disapprove,” Zac said, leaning against the windowsill.
“Yeah, of course I do,” she cried, annoyed. “Did you think any of it through?”
“Yes, of course I did.” He didn't like to keep her out of the loop, but he had to.
“All of five seconds!”
“Look, if we had of told you, we would have spent ten years arguing about whether we were going to do it or not. And if you hadn't noticed, I think ten years is a bit of an optimistic time frame for planning our defences.” Zac smiled sarcastically. “That's why I'm me and you're you.”
Liz sighed dramatically, sinking onto the sofa, arms folded across her chest. “Fine. It's too late now.”
Zac shook his head. “Anyway, you guys are getting hungry. Have you thought about the Chihuahua’s?”
“We've had to go further afield to hunt,” Sam said. “It's getting harder to dodge them.”
The werewolf pack had lived in a smaller town nearby for years, or so they’d heard. They weren't an issue to the brothers when they’d first returned home, but that may have had something to do with them trying to be human. Once they’d caught on that vampires were living in the area, they did all they could to inch them out. Especially once they knew that Sam and Liz only fed on animals. They started claiming even more territory until they had it all.
“They're pushing us out so they can claim the town,” Liz said.
“That's because they know they can't win a fight against all of us together,” Zac scoffed. “They're using dirty underhanded techniques to get their own way.”
“I know what you're trying to insinuate, Zac,” Sam warned.
“What? It's is our home and sure as hell I'm not going to let some dog screw with you,” he said defensively.
“The moon is almost full.”
The werewolves would be stronger the closer it came to a full moon, when their compulsory transformation neared. It would be stupid to go out into the forest at night; even they would be overpowered. Werewolves could change whenever they wanted, but were at the mercy of the phases of the moon, their strength waxing and waning with it.
“Fine, I won't start anything with them,” Zac huffed. “But if they come at you or Liz, I’ll do what I need to.”
“Understood.”
“You know I'm coming with you tomorrow, right?”
“You finally want to try a squirrel?”
“Very funny, Samuel. I'm more into wolves,” Zac snorted.
“Their bite can change a human, god knows what it can do to a vampire,” he said in a last ditch effort to dissuade Zac.
“What do you take me for? I ain't some green recruit, Sam. I'm an expert.”
“That's what I'm afraid of. You can come with us, but don't start anything. We can't afford it right now.”
“Aye, aye, Captain. Oh wait, that's me.” Zac laughed at his own joke, earning a slap in the head with another cushion from Liz.
Zac grinned to himself. Tomorrow at sunset, it would be vampires vs. werewolves one way or the other. His bet was that the dogs would start it.
The late afternoon sun burnt orange through the treetops, casting long shadows over the open yard in front of the manor. Zac was perched on top of the brick fence, waiting impatiently for Sam and Liz to arrive home. When he finally caught sight of them coming up the driveway, he jumped down and went to meet them.
“About time,” he said.
“Chomping at the bit as per usual, I see,” Sam said, thumping his brother on the shoulder.
“Sooner we go, the sooner it's done.”
“Just stay back, okay?” Sam said, holding his hand up. “If it looks like trouble, then do what you have to.”
“Fine. I'll be your little escort service. I won't touch the stinking dogs unless they try something.”
Sam assessed his answer for a moment before nodding and turning towards the forest. Just as he said he would, Zac hung back, perched up in a tree some distance back from them, watching and listening.
It didn't take long for their presence to be noted, as if they were waiting for the vampires to hunt tonight. As the werewolves sauntered through the forest in their human forms, Sam and Liz stood deathly still in the middle of a clearing, waiting for the inevitable, Zac waiting silently in the shadows.
“I thought we told you vamps not to come here anymore,” the hulking man they knew to be the pack master, declared as they came close.
“Do you really want us to feed on innocent human beings?” Sam scoffed.
“We want you dead or gone. Whichever comes first.”
“We only feed on animals,” Sam tried to reason. “We don't want to hurt anyone. Surely we can make a deal.”
The wolves began to laugh, the menacing sound carrying around the now dark forest.
“Change it up, boys,” he said to the others, his eyes beginning to glow a deep amber. “Let's get us some vampers.”
Liz stared in horror as the pack master began to change, his teeth elongating into the sharp incisors of an over large wolf, silver hair sprouting all over his skin. He tore his shirt and jeans off without any regard for his modesty. Roaring as much in pain as to intimidate them, every bone in his body began snapping and twisting as he slowly transformed.
As the rest of the werewolves followed suit, Zac jumped from tree to tree, only slightly rocking each one as he landed. Before the pack master could complete his transformation, he dived from the tree above, savagely striking him in the head. The half man, half wolf fell heavily to the ground, his pack mates howling and snapping as they completed their change.
“Run.” Zac turned to Sam and Liz, pointing to the dark forest behind them.
“What about you?” Sam as he took a few steps backwards.
“Are you stupid? Run!” he yelled, turning back towards the pack, growling deep in his throat.
As Sam and Liz ran the opposite direction, Zac jumped over the snapping jaws of the werewolves, intent on luring as many of them as he could away from the others. Bolting in the opposite direction, he bit open his wrist, dripping a trail of his blood for them to follow. He knew this land better than the back of his own hand. The vegetation had changed somewhat since he was human, but all the dips and rises were the same. Making a mental note of his location, he veered right, flanking the swamp. It had receded some, but was still there.
One of the wolves was right on his heels, snapping at every opportunity looking for its mark. If it bit him, he was probably a goner. The river was directly ahead, along with a sharp drop that plummeted into the muddy bank below. If he was lucky, he would give this wolf a surprise.
Breaking through the trees, he almost missed the edge, jumping at the last minute. Barely clearing the breadth of the river, he threw his weight forward, grasping a low branch. There was a sharp yelp behind him as the wolf desperately tried to slow itself, but the drop had a
ppeared too suddenly. It fell in a shower of decaying leaves and earth, landing heavily into the thick mud below. Zac hauled himself up onto the high bank on the opposite side and glanced down one more time. The werewolf was well and truly stuck in the bank below, struggling to free itself from the sucking mud with no avail. If it changed back into human form, his hulking body would weigh him down more.
Zac sneered at the pathetic sight and turned back towards the manor, where he knew Sam and Liz would be circling back to. Running as fast as he could through the trees, he caught the scent of another wolf ahead. As it lunged for him out of the shadows, he jumped, grasping a limb above him causing the wolf to sail past harmlessly. His feet had barely touched the ground before he'd turned, grasping a fallen branch like a baseball bat. The wolf had scrambled back around and faced him, its eyes reflecting in the moonlight. It advanced slowly on him, snarling. Incisors that had to be at least four inches long, dripped with saliva, ready to tear through his flesh.
Suddenly, the wolf lunged, jaws widened to tear through his jugular. The branch swung and connected with the furry flesh of the wolf with a sickening thud, sending it crashing back through the trees, howling in rage as much as pain. The forest fell into silence as its limp body came to rest somewhere in the darkness.
Pausing only a second, Zac dumped the branch and continued on to the rendezvous point.
Coming up on the clearing he caught sight of Sam and Liz, surrounded by four wolves. As the lead wolf tensed to attack, Zac was on it, crushing its ribs in a vise grip around its gut. Tossing the wounded wolf aside, he put himself in between the vampires and their immediate danger.
Crouching down so he could look the four wolves directly in the eye, he called, “Here puppy, puppy, puppy.”
Then there were five wolves, the one Zac had embedded in the mud, nowhere to be seen. Amber eyes flashed in the darkness as they fixated on their prey. Suddenly, one wolf feigned an attack from Zac's left, distracting him long enough so a large rusty colored wolf could launch itself at his jugular from the right.
Knocked flat on his back, he roared in anger, grasping the neck of the werewolf, using all of his strength to keep its snapping jaws at a distance. He quite liked his face; it would be counterproductive if it were ripped off.