Emily Shadowhunter 4 - a Vampire, Shapeshifter, Werewolf novel.: Book 4: DAY WALKER

by Craig Zerf

  ‘Become a wolf,’ she said to herself. ‘Umm…woof? Growl? Bugger, how the hell do they do it?’

  She heard footsteps coming down the corridor towards the room and she concentrated again, looking for her inner wolf. But it was no good.

  She felt her anger rise, building as she cursed herself internally for being so pathetic. She wasn’t Pack. She wasn’t wolf. She was never into their whole, ‘Life is suffering,’ and ‘To suffer is to live.’ A part of her brain growled as she thought the wolves’ credo. Amazed she took a deep breath and said the next part of the credo aloud. ‘The strength of the Pack is the Wolf.’

  She felt her hair rise on her head and a hind-part of her mind bared its teeth.

  ‘And the strength of the Wolf is the Pack,’ she shouted at the top of her voice.

  Suddenly her sense of smell amped up to the point that she could smell the vamps walking down the corridor. She could smell the carpets outside the room, servants in a different part of the castle. And somewhere far away, the kitchens. Red meat. Her mouth filled with saliva at the thought.

  And she changed. There was no pain. It was like being plunged into a bath of freezing cold water and then walking out into the sun. A feeling of relief. Of finally being free.

  A feeling of rightness.

  The rope slid from her changed body, slipping over her paws and falling to the floor alongside her ripped clothing. She scanned around for her necklace and pendant but couldn’t see them. She started to panic but then some part of her registered that the pendant was still with her. It had become part of her lupine body.

  She had enough time to note that she was not as big a wolf as either William or Troy but she was still as large as a small pony. And her teeth were as long as a man’s hand.

  The door opened and both Christopher and Tangerine walked in. Without pause Emily launched herself at them. Her powerful jaws clamped down on Christopher’s head and she bit down, crunching his cranium like a Christmas walnut. Then she shook him from side to side until his body flew off and his head stayed in her jaws. With a growl she spat him out and turned to face Tangerine.

  The vampire squealed in shock and Emily tried to say something pithy. A comment worthy of the moment.

  But all that came out of her wolfy mouth was a series of guttural, choking growls.

  The sound terrified the female vampire even more than the sight of the wolf. And then Em was on her, ripping and tearing. She pulled her arms off, then clamped her jaws on Tangerine’s throat and with slow and savage determination, bit her head off.

  Em licked her lips. A part of her was grossed out but another part of her, the wolfy part, went – mmm, yum.

  Then she ran down the corridor, all senses alert, looking for an exit.

  Chapter 36

  The castle was huge and sprawling. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to where the corridors led, and some rooms simply opened out into other rooms. Many of them were empty, devoid of furniture and living beings.

  Every now and then Em came across a vampire or a familiar and she showed no mercy, using her new-found jaws and teeth to great effect and dispatching all comers with supernatural speed. She made no attempt to hide the bodies figuring on using speed as opposed to stealth.

  She smelled them before she heard them. Humans. At least twenty of them. A metallic smell. Cold sweat. Fear. Then she heard them. Whispered voices, urgent, stressed. She followed them. Down the corridor, left. A large wooden door. Two locks. Steel bars across it. Obviously a prison or holding area of some sort.

  Food for the vampires.

  Without a second thought Emily launched into a sprint and smashed through the massive oaken door, splintering it into pieces as she struck.

  She found herself in a dark, windowless room. The only light came from a single flickering bulb in the ceiling. At least twenty people were huddled up against the far wall. Their clothes filthy, their faces set in various expressions of either terror or resignation. Acceptance of their inevitable fate.

  Emily wasn’t sure what to do next. It was quite obvious that her lupine form was scaring them but she didn’t want to change back into her human form for a couple of reasons.

  Firstly, she would be naked. Not that her modesty overrode her desire to help these people escape but simply because naked, blonde teenage girls didn’t command much in the way of martial respect. It was difficult to take someone seriously when they were all exposed flesh and jiggling curves.

  And, secondly, she wasn’t sure if she could change back into a wolf if she did. Not that she wasn’t totally capable of escaping in her human form but there was that whole naked thing again. Rather stay as she was and attempt to communicate.

  Firstly she went down on her belly to show that she meant no harm. Then she wriggled forward until she was closer to them. Finally she gestured towards the door with her head. Finally one of the prisoners, a young girl, probably around eleven years of age spoke.

  ‘The big dog wants us to go with it,’ she said.

  Emily controlled the wolf in her that wanted to snap at the girl for calling her a dog and instead she nodded and then winked. The little girl smiled and took the hand of a woman next to her, presumably her mother. ‘Come on,’ she said as she pulled her towards the door.

  Emily nodded again, stood up and padded out of the room, checking both ways for any Nosferatu.

  The group followed their unlikely rescuer through the castle. Emily relied on her supersensitive olfactory and auditory senses to guide them, avoiding most of the Nosferatu as she did so.

  The first one that she came across caused a ripple of alarm through the group as he stepped out of a door and into the corridor. But before he could react Emily had ripped his face off and torn his throat open, sending him to the true death.

  Moments later Em was leading them out through a side door and into the grounds and the blessed sunlight. Once outside it was much easier. As Emily was the only Daywalker amongst vampires, she knew that any guards outside during the hours of sunup would be human and they were no match for a werewolf. Or even for a group of highly pissed off humans who had very recently almost become part of the Nosferatu menu.

  In fact they only came across two familiars and the men in the group took care of them. Punching and kicking them into insensibility and relieving them of their weapons. In both cases, Remington pump-action shotguns.

  Once they got out of the front gates Emily was lost so she simply sat down on her haunches and waited for someone else to take the lead.

  A large boned man with long black hair. A thick beard and a spectacular Roman nose approached her.

  He bowed deeply before he spoke. ‘Greetings, Mannaro,’ he said. ‘My name is Antonio Moretti, I am from the village of Gandolfo. Please allow me to escort you to my house where we can provide shelter, food and clothing for you. We shall ensure that all of these good people get safely back to their own homes on the way.’

  Emily nodded and followed Antonio as he beckoned to the group to get moving.

  It took them a little over two hours to reach Antonio’s dwelling and along the way they had made sure that everyone in the group had made it back to their homes. Some had been greeted by ecstatic family members, some had lived alone and some were greeted with suspicion and even fear. Fear of reprisals from the Nosferatu when they discovered that their food had had the temerity to escape.

  In fact one man had flatly refused to take his wife and daughter back. The little girl who had called Em a dog, and her mother.

  ‘No,’ the man had shaken his head. ‘If you stay here you will bring death to this house. I cannot take the risk.’

  ‘Stop pretending that you are protecting anyone else but yourself,’ argued the mother. ‘There is no one here but you. But instead of taking a risk you would rather condemn your wife and your child to wander the streets, homeless?’

  The man had turned his back on them.

  Emily had felt the hackles on her back rise up and she had growle
d, low and deep. But Antonio had stepped forward and intervened. ‘Do not bother disciplining him, Mannaro,’ he had said to Em. ‘This man is a coward. He is not deserving of such a beautiful wife and daughter. They will stay at my house as welcomed and honored guests until they decide what they would like to do next with their lives. As for him,’ Antonio spat at the man’s feet. ‘His punishment will be to live a long life knowing that he is a gutless coward and a friendless weakling.’

  Then they had left for Antonio’s house. On the way there the Italian had whispered to Em, talking so softly that only she could hear him. ‘Later,’ he said. ‘When this is all over, I have decided that his punishment shall be more immediate. Instead of living out a long life as a selfish man I have decided that he shall instead live out a very short one as a terrified man instead.’

  Emily had grinned her wolfy grin and decided that she was beginning to like Antonio very much indeed.

  ***

  Emily followed Antonio, the little girl and her mother into his house. She had been surprised when they had walked through the gates and up the driveway. He was obviously a man of means. His house, although not that large, was exquisitely appointed. Gleaming white with full length picture windows that allowed access to a magnificent view of the valley below. The furnishings were subtle, yet of great quality and the works of art were all originals by excellent yet lesser known Italian artists.

  Antonio led Em to a room and opened the door for her. ‘Please, Mannaro,’ he said. ‘You can…err…change here in private. There are suitable clothes in the closet. I hope that they fit.’

  Em waited for the door to close and then she concentrated on resuming her human form.

  Nothing happened.

  ‘Oh crap,’ she said to herself. ‘I don’t think that I could stand spending the rest of my life on all fours.’ She sat down on her haunches and tried to relax. Conjuring up human thoughts. Walking in a bipedal fashion. Putting on clothes. Makeup. Eating with a knife and fork.

  Nothing.

  She looked down at her chest and saw that there was a white lightning flash in her fur where her Japanese Butsudan medallion would have hung if she were in human form. That must be where it is, she thought, and she touched it with her paw.

  Immediately her mind filled with human feelings and a wave of vertigo swept over her.

  And she was standing upright and naked in the middle of the room.

  ‘Whoa,’ she said out loud. ‘What a rush.’

  Still feeling slightly unsteady, as if she needed a tail to help her balance, she walked over to the closet and opened it. It was full of clothes. All neatly pressed, of sober cut and color. All very close to her size.

  And all decidedly male.

  After a few seconds she chose a pair of black denim trousers, a black t-shirt, a leather jacket and a pair of Caterpillar work boots with steel tips. She had to put on two pairs of socks as the boots were a full size too large.

  She jumped up and down a couple of times and stretched to check that the clothes fit well enough and then searched for a belt as the jeans were already starting to head south. Using her fangs she bit another couple of holes in the leather belt, cinched it around her waist, left the room and headed for the sounds of Antonio and his two guests.

  They were in his kitchen, all three bolting down sandwiches, cold meats and cheese.

  As she walked in, Antonio looked up at her, did a classic double take, dropped his sandwich on the table and then bowed deeply. ‘Mannaro,’ he said. ‘Or I should say, Donna Mannaro. I apologize, I had no idea that you were a female. And such a beautiful one at that.’

  ‘Well, I am,’ affirmed Emil. ‘And a hungry one at that.’ She walked over to the table and helped herself to a slice of bread and a hunk of cheese. The bread was a little stale, but the cheese was robust and flavorful.

  ‘Where’s the nice doggy gone?’ Asked the little girl.

  ‘Nice wolf, my darling,’ corrected Emily. ‘It’s resting for now so don’t disturb it, okay?’

  The girl nodded.

  ‘So how come you speak such good English?’ Em asked the girl.

  ‘We’re not from here. My mommy and I are from London. We moved out here last year when my mommy married my new daddy.’

  The mother stuck out her hand. ‘Hi, sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier but, you know.’

  Em nodded, ‘You weren’t sure if I’d bite your hand off.’

  ‘I suppose so, anyway, I’m Karen. This is my daughter, Imogen. And you already met my soon to be ex-husband.’

  ‘Yeah,’ affirmed Em. ‘Captain courageous. Unfortunately he was correct in his assumption. They will come for you all tonight. As the sun goes down.’

  Antonio nodded in agreement. ‘I know. The night is their friend. We shall board up our houses, arm ourselves and prepare.’

  ‘No,’ disagreed Em. ‘We shall do no such thing.’ She glanced at the small carriage clock on Antonio’s mantelpiece. ‘It’s summer, so we have at least seven hours of daylight left. We need to go to the village and round up a good old fashioned angry mob. But instead of torches and pitchforks we take shotguns, rifles, pistols and a few gallons of gasoline. Then we wipe out this nest of evil once and forever.’

  Antonio grimaced. ‘We can try,’ he said. ‘But this village has been under the yoke of the Nosferatu for so long that it has become an accepted way of life. And until recently, it was a two way trade, in a manner of speaking. They provided a measure of wealth for all via solid employment. They helped financially, providing funds for new roads, the village hall, facilities. In return we gave them service.’

  ‘And the odd person to feed on,’ added Emily.

  ‘Yes,’ admitted Antonio. ‘But that was a rare occurrence. They usually fed on outsiders. They had them brought in from other parts of Italy. Even from other parts of Europe. But lately things have changed. They no longer treat us with any respect. They take what they want when they want. And any who have tried to leave have not made it out of the local area. We are trapped.’

  ‘Well, you dance with the Devil then you move to his music. You see, there’s a new Capo, and he thinks of humans as food. Less than cattle. So you fight back now or you wait for death. It’s that simple.’

  ‘I will fight, Donna Mannaro,’ affirmed Antonio.

  ‘Cool. By the way, what’s with this Mannaro?’ Asked Em.

  ‘It is Italian for what you are. I think the English word is werewolf. Donna Mannaro is female werewolf.’

  Em smiled. ‘Oh I am much more than just a werewolf.’

  The Italian raised an eyebrow. ‘In what way?’

  ‘Never mind. Time is wasting. How do we go about scaring up a mob?’

  ‘We go to the village. I am well known. First, we start with Mayor Bertolini. Once we have convinced him, then I will approach the priest, Father Grimaldi. After that we shall split up and get as many people into the village square as we can. One big speech and we take it from there. But let me warn you, Donna Mannaro, these people have become used to hiding behind closed doors. Using their fear as a reason to do nothing. It will be more than difficult to convince them to take a stand.’

  ‘You just get them there, Antonio,’ said Em. ‘I’ll have a talk and then we’ll march on the castle.’

  ‘That simple?’ Asked Antonio skeptically.

  ‘Yes,’ affirmed Emily. ‘That simple. Trust me.’

  Chapter 37

  Mayor Bertolini was one of the oldest men that Em had ever seen. Well, one of the oldest human men. She put him at about one hundred and two years old in the shade. But although his skin was as lined as a dried up riverbed and his hair consisted of three wispy strands of gray fluff, his eyes were still youthful and his step was spry.

  And he had the voice of an archangel, deep and resonant and commanding.

  The priest was a short, round, Friar Tuck look-alike; he wore a simple black, ankle length cassock and carried a bible. The cassock had been worn thin, and the black was actu
ally closer to dark green, so old it was.

  Antonio had spoken to them both about taking on the Nosferatu and, to his surprise, they had both agreed with alacrity and had immediately gone about the town, rousting out all to attend a meeting in the square.

  And now the three town notables and Emily stood before a crowd of perhaps eight hundred people.

  ‘I am amazed,’ whispered Antonio to Emily. ‘I mean, these are good men, both the mayor and the Father, but they have never before been so keen to take action. So ready for a fight.’

  Em just smiled. She hadn’t been surprised in the slightest. After all, she had hammered both of them with enough coercion to convince a corpse, let alone a living human being. So when they reacted with such fervor it was the very least that she expected.

  Normally she would not have resorted to screwing with someone’s mind like that, but she knew the enemy that they were facing and she could leave nothing to chance. This was an all-or-nothing situation and she had chosen - all.

  ‘Now for the difficult part,’ added Antonio. ‘Turning this crowd of sheep into a pack of wolves.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ said Em. ‘If you will allow me to give a short speech.’

  ‘Do you speak Italian,’ asked the mayor.

  Em shook her head. ‘No need. You can translate.’

  Bertolini shrugged. Whatever this woman wanted was fine by him. Never before had he felt such a bond in such a short time. He felt like he would literally do anything for her.

  Emily stood up on a chair and held her hands above her head to attract attention. The crowd stilled and stared.

  ‘People,’ she said. ‘We face a great evil. Tonight, the Nosferatu are going to come down from the castle and wreak havoc on this good village. However, I will not allow that to happen. So, instead, we shall band together and, before the night falls, we will attack them.’

  Bertolini translated and there was an immediate negative response from the crowd. People shaking their heads, shouting questions. Some already walking away.