Hair of the Wolf

by Peter J. Wacks

  Timidly he spoke. “Um. No, thank you.” The voice was coming from the opposite direction of the images of Jenny floating in his mind, and he refused to walk away from her. How am I seeing one thing in my mind and hearing another from a different direction? This is very confusing.

  The void pulsed, pushing against him, and laughed.

  Weak little man child. I am you, you cannot resist this. Just make it easier on yourself and accept it willingly.

  Winnie gritted his teeth together. “I said, no thank you. I’ll just wait here.” Wherever here is …

  Give in now, and you will be stronger. Resist, and when you finally capitulate there will be but shreds of you left.

  Winnie stared quizzically into the darkness. “What’s that mean?”

  Fool child. It means you will be consumed in your efforts to resist. And in that consumption, what will—

  “Um, no,” he interrupted. “I mean what does capitulate mean, please?”

  What? Capitulate. It means surrender, weak little one. I’m in your blood now, you cannot fight back, you must surrender!

  “I said, no thank you, and I meant, no thank you. Now go away, I feel like a cat crawled into my mouth to sleep, and I’d rather not be talking to you.”

  Fool. I will be back for you … count on it. You may have resisted this time, but each conversation we have I will become stronger … harder to resist.

  The voice faded away, and with it the pitch of the black changed, becoming less oppressive, and slowly settled until Winnie was drifting through natural sleep.

  ***

  Loki The Coyote

  Rain and wind buffeted god and vampire as they tumbled through the air, surround by shattered glass. They hit the roof opposite Bathory’s penthouse and rolled apart. Loki was panting. The teleportation into a protected space had taken more power than he should have spent. Allowing Bathory to join the attack against his bloodline was unacceptable though.

  He could smell nicotine and stale beer being drawn out of the tar rooftop as he rolled across the wet surface. Staggering to his feet, he quickly scanned for Bathory. There she was, getting up.

  Loki stood up straight and snapped his fingers. Nothing happened.

  Bathory threw back her head and laughed. “Out of power, Loki? I’ve been waiting for this day.”

  He snapped his fingers again desperate.

  Bathory didn’t wait for him to marshal his wits. She charged forward, a blur in the rain. A golden trail arced behind her.

  Loki raised his arm, crossing them in front of his body. Thunder boomed as the Shears of Fate sliced through his forearms and both of them were flung back from the explosion.

  Once again, Loki found himself struggling to stand back up. Golden blood dripped down his arms.

  Standing in the space Loki and Bathory had just violently vacated, Lilith looked back and forth at the Vampire and the God. “It has come to this? Loki, this was nowhere in our plan.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? Your plan. Not our plan.” He pulled two threads out of his pocket, protected in his palms, and held them against the gashes in his arms.

  Bathory backed up, eyeing the two gods.

  “How many times do we have to go over this?” Lilith pointed at Loki. “My plan will save us all. The only deaths since we started on this course were because you deviated.”

  Bathory attacked again. In a streak of light, she vanished, weaving around Lilith and sprinting at Loki. Gold arced as she slashed viciously at his throat.

  This time, Loki wasn’t there. He stepped calmly to the side, as fast as the Vampire. Reaching up casually, he grabbed her wrist with his left hand and twisted. While Bathory’s body followed the new direction of force the god’s throw was pushing her towards, he threw a right hook. Her jaw shattered.

  Loki threw back his head and laughed as Bathory tumbled away. Motes of gold appeared, floating merrily around him. He never took his eyes from Lilith. “Interesting fact for you. My little boost in power wouldn’t have been possible unless she had opened my flesh with those shears. The thread I used to repair myself was stolen with the permission of the life I borrowed from. Her name is Lilith.”

  Bathory struggled to push herself up. It felt like half her body had been caved in by that blow.

  Lilith’s eyes narrowed. “How long have you known, Loki?” She held up her hands and a nimbus of green floated from them to cover Bathory.

  “I suspected all along. I’ve known for years. The real Lilith would’ve caught the little inferences I made about her not being herself. You’re her, but you are also wrong.”

  Bathory lunged again, landing on empty space.

  Loki appeared, nose to nose with Lilith. “So who are you? Who’s hiding using my friend’s face? Hmm?” He tapped her forehead. “Who’s really in there?”

  Lightning ripped through the Night as Lilith swatted Loki’s fingers away. She laughed. “I thought you were so dense. The trails of clues I left about who I really was, only an idiot would miss them. For a moment, a brief and shining moment, I thought you weren’t an idiot. But of course, you are.”

  Loki spun away from Lilith, catching Bathory’s wrist mid-sneak attack. Before he could throw her again, she locked gazes with him.

  The rooftop melted away. Loki was surrounded by a lake of black fire and a crucifix pushed at his back. His limbs pulled towards the beckoning cross. “Are you kidding me? You would challenge the will of a god?”

  He snapped his fingers and the scenery was ripped apart, a tempest of chaos. Bathory screamed as her mindspace shattered. The maelstrom quieted and the three were in a vast hall. The infinite wonders of space floated ethereally through the walls.

  Lilith smiled evilly. Reaching forward she grabbed Loki by the neck. His eyes went wide in surprise.

  “You chose wrong, Loki.” Lilith’s form rippled, replaced by a woman of blackest night. “You brought me to my seat of power.”

  Nyx, the mother of night, was revealed.

  Loki struggled against her grip as she raised him up off the floor. “And you, you idiot … you brought me to the hall of the gods. The one place where the infinite is contained within the finite. Here I can take my true form.”

  Loki jabbed at her, landing smashing blows on her stomach and jaw. Nyx flinched, but didn’t let go. Focused on Nyx, he never noticed Elizabeth Bathory limp up behind him. Thrusting with all her force she stabbed the shears through his back, into his heart.

  Loki’s eyes went wide. As the golden blades tore through his heart he saw. The unblooded vampire was born, and in the care of his friends rather than captured by Bathory. Able would have a new, very young brother. Ian, the werewolf born without the Gift, was safe. Each had their own path, and they were firmly set upon them. He had won.

  Sighing contentedly, a final smile lit his lips. His body dissolved and glowing motes of gold floated gently, gently away from his decomposing form, dancing to the ground and vanishing into the tiles of the hall.

  Once the god was gone, Bathory licked hungrily at the shears, stealing the last bits of Loki’s essence.

  Nyx smiled warmly at her great-grand-daughter. “You have done well. We have won.”

  ***

  Kaine

  Vlad stared at his father. “I don’t understand. The Wolf wasn’t there when the Vampire was created. We have captured neither. Mina and Jon both survive, and though they are apart, both work against us … it feels like everything has come apart at the seams. We have been stopped, beaten.”

  Kaine smiled. “The gods have fallen. The only one left is my mother. Both the Vampire and the Wolf are alive. The failing of our cause is not the end for us, it is the beginning. We have nothing but time to achieve our ends, and there is no one left to oppose us.”

  ***

  Spyke

  Chrprrrdrk watched the apple core intently. Moonlight glinted tantalizingly off of the juicy remains, promising a full belly and making his taste buds sweat in anticipation.

&nb
sp; An average squirrel might see a feast this delicious once or twice in the course of their lives. Chrprrrdrk waited patiently though; oh yes, he had learned that virtue well. An encounter with General Razorclaw, a leanly muscled, evil-as-Mussolini neighborhood tabby cat had left him his veteran’s stripe—a scar that ran diagonally across his face from the left ear to the right side of his nose.

  So he hung onto the trunk of the old birch tree, tucked upside down in the shadow of a branch—well off the white bark that was so readily reflecting the moon’s calm glow. Carefully, he watched … waited.…Seconds crawled by like minutes, and still he was patient. Finally, sure that Razorclaw was nowhere to be seen, he darted down to the apple core, ready to claim his prize.

  “PREDATOR!!!” screamed his instincts as a flash of silver glinted off something shiny to his right. A muffled “Yip” was the last thing Chrprrrdrk heard as Spyke’s fangs sank into his neck and shuffled him off this mortal coil. Spyke drained his victim dry, licked his chops, and contentedly padded back to the doggie door to find Jenny and cuddle.

  From the yard next door Wells smiled at the night. “I’m coming for you, brother mine.”

  Winston, Spyke, and the werewolves will return in

  Gothier Than Thou, Book 1 of The Bloody Countess.

  Ian Stone will return in

  Drowned Memories, Book 1 of the Stone Cold Case Files.

  And …

  Loki will return in The Divine Prank.

  ***

  About the Author

  Throughout the course of his life, Peter has acted in movies, he has designed—and written story-lines for—games, written novels and other fiction, and was nominated for a Bram Stoker Award for his first graphic novel. Currently, he is the managing editor of Kevin J. Anderson & Rebecca Moesta’s WordFire Press.

  Over the years Peter has worked on the Cyberpunk Games, on the set of Alias, and is the writing protégée of Kevin J. Anderson. His first bestseller, Bloodletting Part 1 came out in early 2014. His most recent work Second Paradigm is available via WordFire Press at:

  http://wordfirepress.com/books/second-paradigm/

  ***