Hair of the Wolf

by Peter J. Wacks

  Skid walked around Jonathan to Wells, staring silently at him. Teacher looked to student and finally broke. “Okay. It ran from the sword once. You can go. But be careful. I’m still not convinced you are ready.”

  The gutter-punk nodded. “Guess I finally get to shave my head again, eh? Don’t give ’em anything to grab on to.”

  Wells shook his head. “You two will be the death of me, I swear.” He looked at Jonathan. “Ditch the ridiculous outfit and chill here till nightfall, man. I can’t stand the idea of you traipsing around town looking like that. It’s almost as bad as Bathory wearing the same Tony Manero dance suit for the last thirty three years.”

  Jonathan chuckled. “Well, if I had us on my ass, I’d be concerned with Stayin’ Alive too.”

  ***

  The Wolf Pack

  They were uncharacteristically silent as Josh drove them back to the storm drain that Amber had found. Each was dealing with their own thoughts, getting ready for a terrifying experience.

  Drew alone didn't sit still, instead taking the time to stretch and limber up his muscles. Stripped down to just his shorts, criss-crossing lines of scars could be seen across his torso, arms, and back. It took Josh a moment to find a spot to park the bus at, but finally they were ready. The group piled out, walking carefully and quietly over to the drain cover.

  Tabitha looked around at everyone one last time. “The second you're in the dark, I want you shifted. You'll need your extra senses. Got it?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Good. I'm going down first. Drew, pop it for me. You take rear guard.”

  Drew nodded. He reached down with his right hand and grabbed the cover of the drain. His muscles bulged, his arm elongating and getting thicker as he flexed it, then the storm drain cover popped off and he was fully human again. He grunted a little and got his shoulder under the drain cover, holding it up with his entire body.

  “All right.” Tabitha took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

  With a light splash her backpack landed in the sewer below. She tucked her knees up, and hopped in, spinning around and kicking down onto the ladder rungs, catching herself right at the lip of the entrance. “Discipline and calm, kids. Keep your heads, and stay focused, okay?”

  Everyone was nodding yes as something flashed in the darkness below her and she vanished. No scream, no noise. One second she was there, the next she wasn't.

  “Shit!” Drew threw back the cover with so much force that it dented the Dumpster it crashed into. “Follow me in.”

  He hopped forward and was in wolf form before he landed in the sewers. The pack could hear him growling as they followed him down. As each of them reached the bottom of the ladder they shifted obediently to wolf form, except Eliot. He dropped down, slung off his backpack, and started rifling through gear. Technology wasn’t something the wolves had ever used, being as focused as they were on the lore and the laws, but he had a few tricks he wanted to try.

  Jenna put her nose down to try to catch Tabitha's scent, and almost fell over whimpering when she inhaled. No scent. She growled. Can't smell anything down here. Use your ears and eyes. Nose is a bad idea.

  Drew spun around, snarling, as blood splattered across the rest of the pack. His left flank was torn open, but he had a vampire's wrist in his jaws, and was jerking his head back and forth. A wolf has a jaw capable of tearing out a man's throat in a single bite, and werewolves are even stronger than normal wolves. But Drew was fighting against supernatural strength and losing.

  As the rest of the pack leapt forward to join the fight, they saw Drew’s hind leg buckle under him. The Vampire started to lunge forward, but he reversed his momentum and pulled back as he saw Amber’s black form come sailing over Drew. She snarled and snapped at his neck, forcing him to bring his arm up to try to deflect her, but she had purposefully overshot her jump and sailed past him.

  Seizing the distraction, Jenna and Josh darted in low on his flanks, ripping gouges of muscles out of his calves. Jenna spun and darted back to protect Drew, who was pulling himself back, still snarling. Josh kept his momentum, ripping at the Vampire’s leg, and spinning the creature around like a top as he loped up to Amber.

  The Vampire hissed, exposing its fangs, and in a barely human voice spoke. “Dogs. Eat your blood dogs. Come play dogs.”

  Tradition should have made the Vampire’s voice sound like the opening of an ancient crypt, or possibly cobwebs should be heard in his voice while it made spiders creep down the listener’s spine. He just sounded like a junkie in detox who got clubbed in the head; kind of a jittery loud whisper, slurred, without a lot of capability to think behind it.

  His eyes kept darting back and forth as he twisted his torso to keep all four wolves in his line of sight. Looking into his eyes, the pack saw nothing but a rabid animal inside. And there was only one thing to do to a rabid animal.

  Put it down, Drew growled. Carefully, though. Harry it, and don’t give it a chance to close with any of you.

  Aye, aye, captain obvious, wuffed Amber. It sounded like a sneeze, with her trying not to laugh, and was so out of place that the Vampire spun around to her, suspecting an attack at his back. Josh lunged forward, ready to strike and fade. And that’s where it all went wrong.

  Tactics like that only work when a creature is trying to preserve itself, but the Vampire was insane; its soul was stripped away and ripped to shreds when it had been turned and lost its mind. All that was left was a beast that was driven by hate. When Amber didn’t attack him, he charged her and Jenna instead.

  Josh’s jaws closed over empty air as the Vampire took Jenna and Amber unexpectedly. There was a sickening crunch as his claws sunk into Jenna’s chest, ripping through her fur and muscles. He sunk his hands into her ribs and swung her around, smashing her into Josh and sending them both crashing into the sewer wall. They landed in a heap and neither moved.

  While his back was exposed Amber leapt forward with a snarl and landed heavily on him, latching her jaws around the back of his neck. He started whipping around, howling in pain, trying to dislodge her.

  Drew hunkered down, getting ready to spring into the fight despite his bad leg, when a hand lightly touched his shoulder and a barely visible shadow moved forward. He paused, and the shadow moved in front of him.

  “Hey, asshole.” Eliot’s voice floated calmly through the darkness. “Don’t ever touch my friends again.” There were two clicks as the triple cell ultraviolet lights he was holding in each hand sprang to life. The tinkered-with wiring on them overheated instantly and they exploded.

  The Vampire screamed and fell to its knees sobbing, his skin starting to smolder and the torn up clothes he was wearing burst into flame, lighting the underground battlefield. Amber used the distraction well, savaging the creature’s neck until there was the loud snap of bone. She kept going until the head was ripped off the body.

  The Vampire slumped forward and fell face first into the water, his life-force drained, burnt out of him.

  The wolves didn’t have time to relax before Tabitha’s limp form came hurtling out of the darkness behind Amber and smashed into Eliot.

  A woman’s voice, rich and deep, obviously used to laughter, came rolling out of the darkness. “Oh well done, my pretties. I didn’t expect you to be able to take my pet so easily. Yet you managed. I must applaud the elder.” The voice sighed. “How she has … matured. Those delicate young features lining with age. If only she had my secret.” Laughter drifted down the dark sewer.

  Amber backed up, hackles raised, till she was poised between Drew and Eliot. Eliot wasn’t paying attention to the voice, focused instead on getting Tabitha settled and checking her vitals. He found a heartbeat, which seemed to be enough for him, then he stood up, pulling a gun out of his pocket.

  Dull oranges and reds highlighted the passageway, a flickering dance of macabre light from the smoking remains of the Feral vampire. Without a word he pulled the massive chrome monstrosity to shoulder height and started sque
ezing the trigger.

  Burps of flame flashed in the tunnel as he shot bullets at the source of the voice, slowly walking forward. The gun clicked empty and he dropped the clip, slapping another into its place in under a second and continuing to fire.

  Amber sprang forward to his side, man and wolf calmly walking forward, towards the voice. Tabitha’s voice sounded weak, but she struggled up and said, “Stop. She’ll kill you.”

  The Vampire woman’s voice cut through the darkness like a katana through silk. “Oh, pet, you are ruining my fun.” There was a blur in the edge of the ember glow, and two wet thuds.

  Eliot and Amber went flying backwards, bouncing off the tunnel walls and landing in broken heaps behind Tabitha. Drew growled and limped forward.

  The elder vampire was standing in the light, languidly relaxing by the crisped remains of her feral companion. She was five foot five, but carried such a presence that she seemed to fill the murky corridor from floor to ceiling. Dark hair cascaded in lavish curls down her pale, heart shaped face, and the pure white suit she wore seemed to glow with the power that surrounded her.

  With an elegant gesture of her hand, the corpse at her feet slid to the side, clearing a path between her and the two elder werewolves. She crooked a finger and beckoned to Drew. “Come child, let’s dance, shall we?”

  Drew was only too happy to oblige her, springing from his crouch with a snarl. She reached out, lightning fast, to catch him by the throat, but his form rippled in midair. He snaked his head out of the way, reached forward with an arm and landed a vicious slice with half formed claws across her chest. But then her hand was clamped around his wrist, twisting, pushing him to the ground until he was kneeling before her.

  Glancing down at her shredded coat, fangs poked her bottom lip as she frowned. “What is it with me and these suits?”

  Twenty feet away Tabitha was struggling to get to her feet. “Who the hell are you? How can you be so strong?” he gasped.

  “I, sir,” she smiled languidly, “am her Excellency, niece to the King of Poland, Countess Elizabeth Bathory. And you … well, as I like to say, Vini, Vidi, Finem Vita.” The countess swept her left hand up across Drew’s torso and chest. Blood sprayed against the walls on either side of them. A gurgle escaped Drew’s throat as he slumped to the ground.

  Tabitha had managed to pull herself up. “Do you really see yourself as Caesar? I came, I saw, I killed?”

  “Oh, dear, no. Caesar was a small-minded, cruel little man who tried to make up for great insecurity with great feats of conquering. Napoleon centuries before Napoleon, if you will. I am a force of nature. An immortal. It’s just a little affectation of mine. But, you, you get to live again.”

  Holding on to the pipe bolted high on the wall, Tabitha narrowed her eyes. “Why me, bitch?”

  “Oh, you are just so cute I could eat you up. Of course, that wouldn’t help keep you alive to feel your pain, now would it?”

  Tabitha was thankful that Bathory was evil. A good-hearted person wouldn’t have talked, wouldn’t have gloated, and wouldn’t have given her a chance to gather her willpower together.

  Bathory fiddled with her torn lapels. “That fool minister ancestor of yours was the sole reason I lost my estate and was imprisoned in that damned tower. If it hadn’t been for my dear friend Vladimyr, I most likely would have died in there. I spend a lot of time on other projects. But your lines have a special place in my unbeating heart. Magyari …”

  She delicately wiped Drew’s blood off her face. “It is for his sins that you pay. Each of you is a descendant of one who wronged me in those trials. You will suffer for them, as will your descendants. You will die alone, as I extinguish any life that comes too close to your own.”

  Bathory stopped walking forward and the two women were face to face, with only two feet separating them. Tabitha focused as she saw the Countess’s eyes start to swirl, red and lavender. Tension ripped at her shoulders forcing her hands apart. She recognized the feeling, and knew that they were sharing mindspace, battling with will alone.

  But old dogs can learn new tricks …

  This time, as Tabitha felt the wood of the crucifix scrape roughly against her back, she fed the fire. All of her hate, all of her sorrow, everything that had built a lifetime of pain she fed to the fire. And it burned. It burned like nothing in the real world could, consuming the pain, consuming the hatred, consuming the weariness … until all that was left was steel, forged in a mind of power, by an opposing will.

  Tabitha snapped open her eyes and smiled. Bathory reeled back, shocked by having her will resisted. Human arms, augmented by lycanthrope strength, snapped forward, and claw-tipped fingers closed like a vice around Countess Bathory’s throat. Vicious nails dug into the Vampire’s neck as Tabitha dug her fingers into flesh.

  The Countess returned the favor and started choking Tabitha.

  “Not … fucking … fair …” Gasped Tabitha, as her vision started to swim and go black around the edges. “Can’t end … like … this …”

  A boy’s voice, with the lightest traces of a British accent, came from behind Countess Bathory. “And so it shan’t, werewolf.”

  Three feet of steel ripped through the Vampire’s chest and burst into flame. Bathory shrieked, blood flying from her mouth. She leapt forward, bowling over Tabitha and away from the threat behind her.

  Tabitha looked up. Surrounded by the faintest golden nimbus was … a boy. He was dressed street punk, had a shaved head, and couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old.

  The Countess hissed at him. “You!” She spat. “How dare you interrupt? I will seek you, ambusher, and I will kill you!” As suddenly as he had appeared a few seconds before, she disappeared.

  The boy sniffed the air. “The stench is gone. Dammit. Your pack will need medical attention. Lucky for you she wanted to save their killings until you were enthralled, to leave the mark of their deaths on you, eh?” He reached down and offered a hand to help her up.

  She blinked. “Who … what … wha … the …”

  He smiled impishly and sheathed his sword in a dusty looking old scabbard hanging under his London Fog trench coat. “I’m Skid. Shall we skip the formalities until we have your friends out of here?”

  Around them, groaning, the pack started to get to their collective feet, nursing injuries as they pulled themselves up. She took his hand. “Yes. And … Thank you, Skid.”

  ***

  2013

  ***

  Lilith

  Lilith screamed, yanking on the bars.

  “A thousand years of captivity, and you are still uncivil. You are such a beast. You’re better off since I caged you, animal.” Lilith’s doppelganger, perfect in every aspect other than personality, stood outside the cage. The caged goddess and her clone were floating on a vast platform surrounded by the dazzling reaches of infinite space.

  “Bitch. You think that you can talk down to me? Cage me forever? Yes, you are one of the few beings that existed before me, but that doesn’t give you license to do this. You have to emulate my form to achieve your goals.…And you dare to think you are more than me, petty little god? Just because you have me caged?” Lilith raged as galaxies and nebulae spun by.

  “Well, I do have you caged. Ergo, I am stronger, ergo, I can talk down to you. There is also the little fact that—” the doppelganger’s eyes went wide.

  Lilith threw back her head and laughed. She could feel him at work. Smart beat strong every time. Loki had always been amongst the smartest of the gods, though he rarely chose to employ that intelligence with the caution of wisdom.

  “What the hell is he doing now??” The doppelganger spun on Lilith. “Stay put, princess. Once this is done, I’ll be needing your essence.”

  She vanished, leaving Lilith alone in her cage at the center of the universe.

  ***

  Jonathan Harker

  Jonathan sat atop the roof, unfazed by the sleeting rain pouring from the Denver night sky. Blurry car lights
streaked by below, lending color to the blacks and grays of a night that sane people stayed inside on. He hunched inside the protection of his leather long-coat, water streaming off his derby, contently scanning the streets for some particular activity, sipping a cup of steaming coffee.

  Every night he did the same thing, watching for Van Helsing or Bathory. Something caught his eye and he adjusted his angle to see more clearly into the darkened alleys of the warehouse district. There it was. Barely visible behind the rain, two kids, and behind them a near-invisible figure moving through the shadows, a hunter stalking prey.

  His grin revealed fangs poking against his lower lip. Finally. It had been weeks since the watcher had last caught the hunter. With a swift motion, he leapt, flying from the rooftop towards the alley eight stories below. And from the shadows behind where he had been perched another figure stepped out of the shadows, watching his flight.

  ***

  Van Helsing

  “Stop and pay attention!” Elizabeth held Van Helsing frozen with her gaze. He was the only Feral to survive more than days or weeks, and had been a worthwhile investment of time. Especially the discovery that a feral would move up from blood consumption and eat whole bodies.

  The corpse at his feet was half consumed, and Van Helsing was holding a severed forearm. The hand was jammed in his mouth and blood dripped down his beard. The Blood was so clearly speaking with Van Helsing’s voice and words, and Elizabeth found it unsettling. Though …

  Watching his personality resurface over the course of decades, stripped of humanity, had taught them much about the Blood. And finally, Vlad had given her the all-clear to unleash Van Helsing. She had been anticipating this day for so long. Their master, Kaine, was done studying the creature.

  Elizabeth pumped the shotgun, expelling the used shell. “Once you do this, it is ready to go again. Since you haven’t developed a hypnotic gaze, this tool will allow you to subdue errant food faster than with claw and fang alone. Should you turn it on me while we hunt, it will be the last thing you do. Understand, beast?”