Hair of the Wolf

by Peter J. Wacks

  Drew scooped the Hackey Sack out of the air and tossed it to Josh. Everyone in the circle looked over to the two women not participating. Tabitha was older, with reddish hair going silver. But her hair was the only indication that she was in her late fifties. Her muscles were strong and sleek, and her skin smooth. She wore a tie-dye shirt and jeans. She had a large book in her lap and was just looking up from it.

  Amber sat across from her, cross-legged, with the folds of her black skirt folded carefully into her lap. Her hands, showcased by a pair of leather bracers that sat oddly on her forearms, were primly placed on top of the dress. Long, naturally black hair cascaded down her back, and her lips were parted in a slight grin.

  Josh softly cleared his throat. “Tabitha? Are we done here?”

  She stood up, closing the book. “Yes. It’s definitely one of them. It will have gone to ground during the daylight hours. We need the cops out of here before we can pick up the trail. Unless …” Tabitha chewed her bottom lip.

  Drew popped his knuckles. “Tabs, these guys don't know how to deal with this. You sure you want a Feral to be their first real hunt?”

  “I don't see that we have much choice, Drew. There is a Feral in town, it’s just going to keep killing till someone takes it down. And you know as well as I do that if it’s the cops that catch up to it, a lot of people will die and it might still get away.”

  Drew grunted. “Goddamned vampires, leaving messes like this for us to clean up.”

  “You are both such … look. The P.I. failed. We have to get the scent while we can.” Amber, who had been sitting with Tabitha, dropped her skirt to the ground and stood stark naked in front of everyone, with that same impish grin on her lips. She darted up the hill, black hair streaming behind her, and by the time she was up at street level, she looked like a black-furred wolf.

  Tabitha growled under her breath, then spun back to the pack. “Dammit, we don’t take risks like that. Eliot, lost dog bit. Go!”

  One of the other players from the Hackey Sack circle, a tall and darkly handsome young man, nodded curtly. Reaching over to the group's ice chest he pulled out a collar and leash, then jogged up from the reservoir.

  Josh pushed his sandy blond hair out of his eyes and started to pack up the water bottles and other “hanging out” paraphernalia the group had distributed. “Jenna, could you grab Amber's clothes?”

  Jenna snapped back out of whatever she had been thinking, pulled her sarong up a bit, and knelt down to collect Amber's hastily discarded outfit. Tabitha and Drew were off to the side quietly arguing. She glances back to Josh. “Yeah, sorry Josh. I was just thinking … you know ... it’s really messed up that vamps leave their cubs like that.”

  Josh nodded as he picked up the ice chest. “Yeah, it is. But I was reading some of the stuff Tabitha left at our place, and it’s not all of their cubs. It’s, like, one can't cope, you know, and goes crazy. So the older ones let it go get itself killed. But, like, the ones that don't go schizoid get nurtured and stuff.”

  “It’s just so … heartless. So cruel.”

  “Jenna. They're vampires. They suck blood and kill to stay alive.”

  “But Josh, that doesn't mean they don't have hearts, it just means they have a harder life. There's good in everything if you dig deep enough.”

  “Yeah, but for vampires, they get the goodness sucked out of them at birth, you know?”

  Tabitha clapped, once. “Alright kids. Go time. We can debate supernatural nature versus nurture some other time. Right now, one of our own has done something stupid, so we have to seize the opportunity while trying to protect her.”

  Josh was trying not to grin. He was sure no one else was focused on listening to what was happening up the street … But what he heard was Eliot saying, “No, Amber! Bad Dog! Get off the officer's leg. I'm so sorry, sir. She gets like this during the summers. DOWN, AMBER!”

  He snorted once, and choked down the laugh. “Alright. I'm like, ready and stuff.”

  The remaining four hiked up the small hill to the other side of the reservoir, where Josh's VW Bus was parked, and piled into it.

  The blue van, along with its dozens of Grateful Dead, Phish, and pot leaf stickers pulled out into the street and headed along Cherry Creek.

  A few blocks, and fifteen minutes later, Eliot walked up to the van, leading Amber by collar and leash. The two hopped through side door, and Drew poked his head out for a second.

  “All clear.” he said as he pulled his head back in and slid the door shut. “Any luck?”

  Eliot grunted and nodded towards Amber as she shifted back to her human form. “Ask her.”

  Amber grinned as she struggled back into her clothes, and paused for a second to tweak Drew's cheek. “Jinkies Fred! I followed the scent all the way a storm drain cover, and then it vanished underground. I think it’s a clue!”

  Drew frowned at Amber. “Crap. That’s not good.”

  Jenna looked back. “Why? Is it using the sewers to get around town? Are we going to have to try to track it through … oh, ewwwww …” The light dawned and she realized what they’d have to track it through.

  Tabitha grimaced also. “No. It’s living down there, not traveling through it. It'll be fairly close to the entrance, too. It won’t want to stray far from food.”

  “What's the problem then?” Josh glanced at the rear-view mirror to see everyone else. “We just, like, pop down now. Nail it while it’s asleep. Easy fight.”

  “Eager to die today, Josh?”

  “What do you mean, Drew?”

  Tabitha hmphed and spoke up. “Hush boys. What Drew is trying to say is that going in there right now is a very dangerous idea. It probably won’t be asleep. It’s dark enough that the Vampire is safe.”

  Eliot's brows wrinkled in confusion, but it was Josh that spoke up. “Wait. I thought all vamps, you know, like, passed out during the day.”

  Tabitha shook her head. “No more than werewolves have to wait till a full moon to change. Why should vampires be stuck to folklore rules when we aren't?”

  Jenna shook her head. “But wait. We have to study and practice to get that type of control. You mean vampires don't?”

  Amber grinned, “You mean you guys have to study, slowpokes.” She stuck out her tongue and waggled her fingers in her ears, but no one seemed to notice. They were all used to getting sassed by her.

  This time it was Drew who answered. “Not for a feral. A normal vamp, yeah, but ferals are different. The Beast controls them, and there’s barely anything left to call human. Ferals can do things that most vamps can't do for the first couple years or decades of their lives.” He paused for a moment, thinking the situation through. "We have to hit during the day, though. If we wait till tonight, it might move to a different hidey hole, then we have to wait for another killing.”

  Tabitha nodded. “Good instincts, Drew. At least it’s in the dark and the kids will be able to change.”

  The pack was silent for the next couple moments, as they finished the drive to Josh's apartment. As they swung off Hampden Avenue and into Josh's condo complex, the pack seemed to come to an unspoken agreement. This needed to be done, and there was no one else to do it.

  Quietly, they walked to into Josh’s. Amber tugged at her hair as she leaned against a wall, then looked to her pack mother. “Tabitha, I have to ask you something. We all know that your pack was killed by vampires … and you told us when we were kids about our packs … but you've never told us the whole story. And since we're about to fight one of these things … I kind of want to know if this is a vengeance kick for you or what?”

  “It doesn't matter,” broke in Drew.

  Tabitha frowned. “No, it’s a valid question.” She sighed and motioned to the various beanbags and ergonomic chairs around the room. “Go ahead and pull up seats. Amber is right, my motivation is important. It’s part of what I'm trying to teach you guys. At your center, you have to be calm. Be the eye of the storm. It’s like being at the middle of a
seesaw. On either side things moving, while you sit at that pivot point. If I am going into this bent on vengeance, it will endanger all of you. So, I'm going to tell you a story, and let you decide.”

  Eliot walked over to the fridge, grabbing a beer, while everyone else settled in to listen. “It was back in 1973. I was nineteen years old. My pack … they were fierce warriors. Fiercer than you can imagine. We numbered eleven strong, all trained warriors, when we came across the Vampire. It was … a continuation of an older fight. In retrospect, I suppose I should start with that first fight; at the beginning of the story as I know it.

  “Our bloodlines come from Europe. During the late sixteenth century there was a war between Austria and the Ottoman Empire. Our families lived in the middle of that war, we were a part of it. Caught up in that, we … missed things we shouldn’t have. The wolves of the time found a woman who they thought was a vampire. At the time there was an uneasy peace between the races, so they could not act upon the depravities she was committing. People were being slaughtered by the dozens, she was a torturer. She even bathed in the blood of her victims.”

  “Wait.” Jenna interrupted. “You mean Eli—”

  “Do not say the name! To do so can draw her attention. But yes. You have the right person. Our families called her the Bloody Countess. Our families were wrong. She wasn’t a vampire. She was just a killer. We persecuted her though, and used our connections to have her entombed in her own home. It didn’t stay that way. She was rescued by the Vlad the Impaler and turned into a vampire. That was how we learned we were wrong.”

  “Why can we say his name and not hers?” Josh asked.

  “The Bloody Countess has been in each of our minds. Well, all of us but Drew. Speaking her name, it echoes. There is a personal tie. She can sense it. Vlad has not done the same to us, so he cannot.”

  Tabitha gathered her thoughts then continued. “Her slaughters grew worse once she was turned. She would wipe out entire villages. And she came after us. Our bloodline. So we came back after her. The feud came to the first head during World War Two.

  “Can you imagine an entire town that looks like the leftover sets from a B-slasher flick? The descriptions chronicled in our pack history … It was a bloodbath.”

  “This vampire, supposedly turned by Vlad Tepes himself, was openly feeding on the citizens, and those left alive were broken, inside the head. They were people, but they acted like Renfield from the novel Dracula. Eating bugs, laughing at petty cruelties, and being driven by their basest instincts. Frothing at the brain—that’s how they talked about them. So they challenged the Vampire, tried to save what they could from that evil influence.”

  Tabitha frowned. “Of seven pack-mates, only three escaped alive from that town.”

  She shook her head. “When I was a pup that story always frightened me. When I got older … it motivated me to train harder. And it’s lucky for me that it did, even though it didn’t really matter. She caught back up with us in 1973.”

  Drew motioned towards the kitchen and caught Eliot's eye. The younger man nodded, then tossed the lanky older fighter a can of Fosters.

  Tabitha wiped a tear from her eye and continued. “Fighting a vampire like that is … well, it’s nothing you guys are ready for. When you battle a non-Feral you have to fight their willpower. They push into your head and they turn your own mind against you. The longer they’ve been around the stronger their willpower is.”

  She met each of their eyes. “Ferals are weak in comparison. You just have to fight the beast. When she caught up to us, we had no idea she was coming, and before I had even shifted, both of my brothers were dead. We had been sitting around a beach fire, enjoying the ocean. There was a light mist, and then she was just there and blood was flying everywhere.”

  Jenna, always empathic, was openly crying.

  Josh was pale and just said. “Jesus.”

  Amber chewed her lip and raised her eyebrows questioningly towards Tabitha.

  Tabitha smiled sadly. “No, Amber, I'll finish the story. I don't want to relive these memories just to tell you the story another time so you can hear the ending. We fought her. We fought with everything we had, every trick we knew. And one by one we all died. I think she left me alive because I was the youngest. Here are the final moments I remember. My father, Raymond, was in front of me attacking her. She caught him by the muzzle, then sank her fangs into his neck while staring me in the eye.”

  Quiet tears ran down her cheeks. “Her eyes went red and violet. I couldn't move a muscle while I watched her drain my dad. Then … the world melted away, like a Salvador Dali painting. I felt something rip through my hands and feet. I was being crucified. And then I was burning, on fire, stretched out on a cross in my mind. I woke up from that nightmare almost a month later in a state hospital.”

  Tabitha's voice, dripping sorrow, changed. All at once there was steel there. “You will die if you seek vengeance against the vampires. We are half the strength and nowhere near the skill of my elders. What we do is clean up their messes, and keep the average people of our land safe. This is the Lore, and the Law can be damned. Do you understand?”

  Shocked by the sudden swing in words, the pack all nodded. Drew grinned to himself as he polished off his beer. Jenna twined her fingers through Josh’s and whispered to him “She’s scary. Just when you think you've found the softest part of her, she turns into a rock.”

  Eliot chuckled, and everyone turned. “Don't worry. We're not stupid. Just protective of you.”

  Tabitha nodded. As usual, on the rare occasion you caught him talking, Eliot had something useful to say. “The duty of protection is mine not yours, young ones. I am the elder, and the reader of the Lore.”

  She glanced at Amber. “For now anyway. And I will protect you. I love you all the more, my pups, for being the way you are, though. If that suffices for everyone, I suggest we stop burning daylight and get ready to kill an undead.”

  A chorus of “yes, ma’ams” reverberated around the room, and the wolf pack finished getting ready.

  ***

  Skid, Wells, & Jonathan

  Jonathan adjusted the burka and pushed the sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, getting them as flush as he could with his face. Taking a deep breath he opened the door of the heavily tinted Town Car. He stepped into the daylight, shutting the door behind himself. The car pulled away.

  He was in the warehouse district of Denver, north of downtown and just off of the Platte River. Large, wide buildings, all a little run down, stretched up and down the street in both directions. He walked up to the large double doors of the windowless building he had been dropped off at and knocked.

  The door swung open, revealing a short, muscled, shirtless teenage boy. The boy cocked his head to the side, studying Jonathan.

  “Oi, Wells.” He shouted back into the warehouse. “There’s a transvestite vampire at the door. You order a kinky stripper or somethin’?”

  He looked back to Jonathan. “The Ray Bans are a bit out of costume, dude.”

  Jonathan chuckled. “It is a protective measure, young one. I see your accent is fading.”

  Skid raised an eyebrow. “Dunno how you know about that, but yeah.

  Wells walked up, wearing black sweats with a towel slung over one shoulder. His short blond hair and goatee were beaded with sweat. “Jonathan! What an unexpected surprise! And what a novel outfit. Move aside, Skid, let the vampire in.”

  “Thanks, Wells.” Jonathan headed into dark of the building. The doors closed behind him, sealing away the deadly sunlight. Jonathan pulled off the sunglasses and burka hood then turned around to face his friend.

  Wells was leaning against the closed door, grinning. The boy was looking a bit confused. Motioning with his eyes and a raised eyebrow, Wells posed the question, What do you think of the boy?

  Jonathan extended a hand, introducing himself. “Hello, I’m Jonathan Harker.”

  Skid’s eyes got wide. “Cor! The dude Wells was tellin’ me
about that Harker in Dracula was based on?”

  Jonathan chuckled. “Yes. One and the same. And your instructor here was one of the people that saved me from him.”

  He jerked a thumb in Wells’ direction. “Don’t tell him though, it’ll just go to his head if you do. But you. You’re the Angel. You haven’t aged a day in forty years. Impressive.”

  Skid grinned. “I’ve actually gotten about a year older. Not immortal, just slow to age.”

  Wells pushed himself off the wall, heading further into the warehouse and talking over his shoulder. “Come on in Jonathan. I know you didn’t brave the sunlight, or that ridiculous outfit, just to come compliment my student. What’s up?”

  Jonathan followed him, Skid trailing behind. “Dracula, that is, Vlad Tepes … and Liz Bathory, have unleashed a feral vampire upon the city. Bathory guided it, protected it. There’s no reason for that unless … she knows about you two, or she knows the wolves are here.”

  “Skid already faced it, Jon. It ran from the sword.” The hallway exited into a large workout room. Wrestling mats, punching bags, and practice dummies adorned the room. Weapons of all sizes and shapes, ranging from pistols to traditional Japanese blades, adorned the walls. Wells turned to face him. “This is all happening faster than it was supposed to.”

  Jon blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Loki, Coyote, whatever you want to call him … he struck a deal with me. Thirty-three years ago, he promised to protect the wolves for me for thirty-five years. I should have almost two more years to train the kid. You’re not ready, right Skid?”

  “Supposedly not. Why can’t you kill the Feral, mister fancy vamp? Can’t a big bad elder like you kill a fairly new feral?”

  “I can’t get involved yet, and risk facing Bathory this soon. My course is headed towards Van Helsing.” He fiddled with the burka hanging in his hands. “I need your help.”

  Wells watched him silently, and Jonathan could feel Skid’s questioning eyes behind him. The man used silence like a weapon, emptying the room, and Jonathan filled it with speech. “The wolves are about to fall into the trap. They won’t survive.”