by Justin Sloan
The walk down those stairs brought back memories of the rickety house where he and the other wolves had trained under Aldrick. That old place was nothing compared to this one, but it had been the house where he’d gotten to know Kat, where he’d befriended Babur… and now they were both gone.
He stumbled at the thought, catching himself on the railing at the bottom stair.
In spite of his head spinning, everything suddenly became very real—as if he’d been in a haze a moment before, because now he understood what was really happening. The scent of pine candles, one he’d grown very used to in that old rickety house they’d all lived in, filled the room. Candlelight flickered across a man eating alone at a wide table.
Aldrick.
“You… you were dead,” Danny said, a rush of confused emotions taking over.
“Death cannot hold me, son.” Aldrick placed his knife and fork next to the steak, which he had almost finished eating. “And in truth, I was never dead.”
He stood and stepped closer, so that Danny could see the scar-tissue from burns that now covered half of the man’s face. Combined with the claw-mark scars that had already been there, he was a gruesome sight.
“All this time, and you didn’t come find us. Why?” Danny asked.
“What matters is that I’m here now,” Aldrick said. “And the time of the Hounds of Gods has come at last.”
“No,” Danny said, taking a step back. “It’s over, those days were misguided, they—”
He bumped into someone and turned to see Gregor there, arms crossed, a wicked smile on his face. Out of the shadows, more men and women stepped forward. Dozens of them, all wearing those same special operations clothes of the men who had attacked Katherine and him in the cavern beneath the well.
“You see,” Aldrick said, stepping up to one of the men, who instantly knelt. “I’ve been busy, building up my army again. Any one of these would serve gladly for the chance to become one of us. And I’ve evolved.”
Danny cocked his head, curious at the last statement.
But Aldrick didn’t make him wait long. With a growl, he partially transformed—sharp teeth extending down as his eyes flashed yellow and he sunk his teeth into the man’s neck. The man grunted in pain, but he stared up at Aldrick with a wild-passion, craving every moment of the bite even as his own blood seeped down his neck.
It wasn’t a full moon, Danny was sure of it because if it had been, he would have transformed too. That could only mean one thing—Aldrick had figured out how to transform whenever he wanted to, just like Katherine.
If he had a whole army of werewolves with this power, the humans were in trouble.
Chapter 8: Time to Flee
The taste of blood was still strong in Katherine’s mouth when she woke, the first light just barely showing through the trees. She smelled feces and death, and her body felt like it had been stuffed into a bag and beaten with metal rods.
Everything was a haze, at first, but a glance showed her the bathroom, dead truckers, and the open door. Snippets of the night returned—screaming… blood… leaning against that door as she slept. Her jacket was in tatters, the cloth for her wound barely hanging on and concealing her chest.
She slowly crept out of the bathroom and then made for the tree line, pausing at the crunch of tires on gravel. Flashing blue and red lights.
Quickly, she ducked into the trees, eyes searching for any sight of Triston. Somehow, she’d let herself fall too deeply again. She could have prevented it, but she had been so groggy from the shot and grief at losing Danny. In the future, she’d have to find a way to control her emotions, even in situations like this. The alternative was too horrible.
She wiped the nearly dried blood from her chin, debating her next move. A slight movement at the rear of the building caught her eye—Triston! He must have hidden as she destroyed the truckers. The movement told her he wasn’t dead.
Running in a crouch, she made it to him and helped him to sit up.
“The police are here,” she said, inspecting the knife wound in his stomach. There was blood, but it wasn’t much more than a scratch, really.
“You big baby,” she said.
“It hurt.”
“Want them to get you to the hospital?”
“They’ll ask questions,” he said, apparently not getting her sarcasm. He gripped her and pulled himself up to stand. “They’ll want to know what happened.”
She knew where he was going with this. “It’s going to be too dangerous with me.”
“I didn’t leave you, now don’t you leave me.”
For a moment she stared at him, considering the fact that he had likely saved her life, and he had stuck out the night even with her in werewolf mode.
Voices drew close, snapping her out of her thoughts.
“Deal,” she whispered.
The two ducked into the woods. Ferns and ivy hid the ground, which led down in a steep descent. The thick pines would hide their escape, but Katherine still worried. If a search started soon, with the pace they were making, they’d be in trouble.
But no sounds of shouting cops or barking dogs came.
Rays of sunlight were peeking through the tree branches by the time they stopped at a lake. The clear water became murky with the grime and dried blood from her fingernails, so she moved to a fresh area and splashed some water on her face. A cold shock caused her to gasp, but she liked that it helped her wake up.
Her movements in the water had pulled on her shoulder, so she tugged the cloth aside to assess the wound. Not surprisingly, it was mostly better—the effects of the silver had slowed the healing process, but not completely.
After reapplying the cloth, she sat back on a small log and looked out over the water. The reflection showed the vibrant orange and yellow clouds above, so that the area seemed to meld into a warm glow like a gentle flame, only interrupted by the evergreens surrounding the lake.
There had been a time, when she was almost too young to remember, that she’d been camping with her parents at a lake much like this one. She had hated waking up early, but her mom had insisted they hike down to the lake to watch the sunrise over it. Her mom had always loved the way the two worlds merged, the water and the sky, as if our world on earth and that of the heavens met and became one. Katherine remembered closing her eyes that morning long ago and holding her mother’s hand as she felt the warm summer breeze on her face.
Katherine closed her eyes now, wishing she could feel that day again. But all she felt was pain. An empty hole in her heart where once there had been family and friends. Now… nothing remained.
Splashing water pulled her from her thoughts, and she realized a tear was hovering at the edge of her eye. She wiped it away with an annoyed flick of her wrist.
Triston was washing his shirt in the lake. The glow of sunrise lit him brilliantly, and the rippling water sent sparkles of light to dance across his toned stomach, marred only by the knife wound. He glanced over, cocking his head at the way she was looking at him, and she quickly turned away.
Her look hadn’t been anything, she told herself. Just a sad girl in mourning, longing for comfort. Nothing more.
Triston squeezed out his shirt and put it back on, still wet. “The bleeding’s mostly stopped.” Without asking her permission, he walked over and checked her wound too. “And your shoulder looks surprisingly good.”
“My body tends to do that.” She sensed his gaze and turned to him with a glare, forcing herself to be strong. “We should go our separate ways. Thank you for your help.”
“Wait,” he said, but she was already up and walking away. “I can help you.”
She scoffed, looking back. “You might actually think that, but you have no idea what kind of help I need.”
He approached and took hold of her arm. On instinct, she flipped him over and knelt with him on the ground, her knee at his throat. She glared at him silently for a moment, then stood and walked away.
“I can get you a change
of clothes,” Triston called after her. “A warm meal.”
Her stomach rumbled and, in a way, she was glad she was hungry. It meant she hadn’t fed too much the night before—a thought that always sent a shiver of disgust through her body. She pulled her tattered clothes tight.
“How far?”
Triston checked the sun. Without answering, he started walking.
“I asked you a question,” she said, following.
“I’ve never gone on foot.”
“So you could be completely lost?”
He nodded. “But I’m not. Are you tired?”
“You try being shot and then… that, back there. Of course I’m tired.”
“Does that take it out of you?” he asked, with a curious glance. “Your transformation?”
“You… saw me?”
“Heard, mostly.” Now he looked away, his eyes full of horror and wonder. “But I saw a bit.”
They walked for a while in silence, and Katherine appreciated him for that. They came to a small stream, where he waited to help her across. She leaped over and purposefully avoided his hand. His response was a laugh.
“I’m funny now?” she said, challenging.
“Accepting help is never a weakness,” he said in response.
She pushed on ahead, not sure which way to go, but following the direction they’d been headed.
He caught up and gave her a glance before reaching into his pocket for the crumpled silver bullet.
“When I took this out of you, you transformed partially,” he said. “I’ve never known wer—er… your kind, could do that.”
“There’s no such thing as my kind. I’m the only one.” She took the bullet, feeling the cold silver against her palm as she clenched it in her fist. She wasn’t sure how much she could trust this guy, but he’d stuck by her so far, and definitely been of some help.
“I’m the only one that changes every night,” she said with a heavy sigh, “depending on the fullness of the moon… and sometimes more, if I feel threatened, or the emotions take over.”
“And on the full moon?” he asked.
“It’s a blur, from the moment I transform to the moment I wake up. Much like when I lose control, as I did back there. These aren’t things I like to discuss.” Her eyes flashed at him, and he looked down.
She could tell he wanted more, but was glad to once again see he knew when quiet was called for.
Chapter 9: A Walk in the Woods
The trees had become dense overhead, the rays of the sun barely able to sneak through the thick canopy.
Katherine’s bones ached and a light sweat covered her whole body in spite of the cold chill in the air. She was used to walking for long periods of time, but with Danny and the others she’d always been prepared, with water and food. The most she’d had recently were the few blackberries Triston was able to scrounge up.
Speckles of light littered the way forward, and Katherine held up the crumpled silver bullet as she walked, watching it catch the light, sparkle, then return to a dull gray in the darkness. Something Triston had said had been eating at her.
“When you found me, I was normal?” she asked.
He nodded.
“And when you took this out of me…?”
“Not normal.”
She considered him, then held up the silver for him to see. “And if I always had silver in me?”
“Isn’t silver supposed to kill werewolves?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure.” She couldn’t go on, she needed to sit and think. She found a moss-covered rock and lowered herself with a groan. “All these years I’d been running from it, but in moderation… maybe.”
“You can’t seriously be considering putting silver in your body,” he said.
“If this could work on the full moon, if somehow….” She was up, pulling him along, excited about the idea of testing out her new theory that perhaps the effects of silver could be harnessed. “Let’s get to your friend’s place before nightfall.”
He didn’t protest, and before long they found themselves at a small drop-off that led to a path. In the distance, barely visible above the tree line, were the roofs of a small village. The top of a church stood tallest above the rest, and Katherine paused for a moment at the sight of it. Within thirty minutes they were walking down the small street in the center of the town, hoping no one would notice their sorry state, or if they had, that the police hadn’t been through here yet asking about mauled truckers.
It was a tourist town, or at least it tried to be, so Katherine easily found a jewelry shop. It was closed for the night, but that wasn’t going to stop her, not now.
“Why are we here?” Triston asked, looking up at the jewelry store sign that resembled a pirate ship. It made no sense, considering how far from the ocean they were.
“Silver,” she said, and his expression changed to understanding.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, they went to the rear door and Katherine slammed her elbow into the glass of the door. Damn, that hurt--and didn’t break the glass.
Triston laughed and found a rock, which he used to much greater effect. He cleared the area of sharp glass, then tossed the stone back and opened the door for her.
Katherine had never been much into jewelry, but here she had a different mission. She needed silver, and lots of it.
“How about these?” Triston said, handing over two big, silver loops.
Katherine held them up to her ears, looking in the mirror. God, she was a mess. A shower and change of clothes were long overdue. As for the jewelry, she had no idea. She’d never had a reason to wear jewelry, until now. The earrings looked fine, if not a little gaudy. She set one down and grabbed a pointed object from the counter.
“You aren’t pierced?” Triston asked.
“Should I be?” She held it up, considering.
“Most women your age are,” Triston said. “I just thought….”
“I’ve never had time for such luxuries.”
She decided she was ready and, with only a small cringe, stabbed the hole in her ear with a small yelp. A drop of blood hit the floor.
“Breaking and entering means you usually shouldn’t leave blood behind,” Triston said, as he knelt down to try and scrub it up with his sleeve. “Plus, we could’ve just had you pierced somewhere, you know, professionally.”
“It’s fine,” Katherine replied as she did the second ear. “I heal fast.”
Triston shook his head, but just motioned to the door. “I think it’s time to leave.”
“Your friend’s place is close?” she asked as she took the bag of silver earrings.
“Not far.” Triston threw down some money and said, “Maybe that’ll keep them from calling the cops on us.”
He led the way. Several people on the street turned to look their direction, but soon returned their attention to the box of cupcakes or whatever it was one of them was holding. Triston stopped at a house that had a brown downstairs and white up, with large wood beams that gave it a Bavarian feel.
He banged on the door. No answer. Katherine wiped the blood from her ears while she waited.
“Mauro, open up!” Triston shouted. He waited another moment, then gently tossed a pebble at the second story window. “Mauro!”
Katherine glanced around, glad to see no one was paying them any attention.
“Can’t you just call him?” she asked.
Triston pulled a cell from his pocket and shook his head. “No bars. Not that I’d expect it up here, I mean… it’s pretty much always like this.”
“Yeah, I bet,” she said. She’d always wondered what it would have been like to have a real phone, especially one of those smart ones, but she never stayed in one place long enough. It wasn’t like she had gone out and found a job to pay the insane bills, so she got a temp one from time-to-time, but hers must have fallen out in all the chaos, as she couldn’t find it now.
“It’s okay, I know where he hides his key,” Tris
ton said.
He disappeared around the corner and came back a moment later with a shiny, brass key in his hand, which he used to open the door. The house was musty, as if no one had been here for some time. The walls were lined with maps of Europe and a couple of specific spots in Italy.
Again Katherine’s stomach rumbled, but she had more pressing matters and so she first headed to the restroom. She took care of business, then washed off the dry blood on her ear lobes. She scrunched her nose at the mess she’d made of the plush, white towel. Oh well, she’d find this Mauro guy a new one, she figured as she tossed the towel in the garbage.
Back in the living room, Triston was looking over a letter. He had a set of clothes folded for her on the table, which she took and put on. The sky was purple outside, a tint of red in the clouds hovering over the trees.
“Seems Mauro was called to duty, to Vancouver, B.C.,” Triston said. He sat on the sofa and held the letter, staring at it as if that would change their situation.
“Of course he was,” Katherine said with a long sigh.
“How’s that?”
“Everyone has their stories, myths,” she said. “Talk of werew—well, you know, everywhere.”
“And somehow that connects here?”
She ignored the stress in his voice. “You wanna know about trails of men in the South? Underground networks in Louisiana? We followed them all, but found nothing. Mostly stories, the creation of some fiction author having a good time.”
“And Vancouver?”
“We heard things….” She went to the window, watching the last rays of light vanish from the sky. “Talk of a cult, secret societies… Shadows, and likely myths. Nothing more.”
“You’ve spent your whole life looking for answers,” he said, his voice full of awe. “You’ve grown cynical.”
“Wouldn’t you?” She breathed deep, trying to push the images of her dead parents from her mind. “No matter what I try, I can’t escape what I really am.”
A moment of silence passed before Triston asked, “And what is that, exactly?”