Bring On The Night

by Sonya Clark

  “Is he dead?” Brandon whispered.

  “No, you dumbass.” Haywood opened his eyes and glared at them. “But I damn sure need a doctor.”

  “Can you walk?” Jessie asked.

  He nodded. They helped him to his feet. “Brandy, help him get out. Make sure Watanabe knows he needs to get to an emergency room.”

  Brandon nodded. Haywood stammered in a voice full of pain, “I got one, a vamp. His buddy’s around here somewhere. She ran off when I staked her pal.”

  “Where’s William?”

  “Headed up the hallway, last time I saw him.”

  Her eyes met Brandon’s in the near-dark. “Go.”

  She started up the hall. With a glance back to make sure they were moving she saw Brandon transfer the Super Soaker to his right hand and use his left side to support Haywood. They began to hobble out. Jessie ran.

  * * * *

  The shuriken caught in the werewolf’s skull, steel points sinking into flesh like teeth. Kirkbride gave the bat a vicious yank, tearing skin and cartilage and leaving the wolf with only one eye as it tried to lurch away, its legs collapsing under it. It was the one already injured from their first encounter and the creature seemed to have little fight left in it. Kirkbride felt no mercy for it and crashed the bat into the werewolf’s head once more. It slumped, part of its wolf body transforming back into human. The creature gave one last wracking shudder and died, its form caught between man and wolf.

  Kirkbride stood there for a moment, breathing hard, the adrenaline dump making him feel slightly sick.

  “That’s another one of my children you’ve killed,” Margot announced herself. “You know I’ll make you pay for it.”

  He turned to find Margot standing in the doorway, her face twisted with hate. “Let’s do this,” he replied, calm.

  A hint of a smile lightened her face. He expected her to attack him, readied himself for it. Instead she sprinted up the hall. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before following.

  * * * *

  The female vampire dropped on top of Brandon and Haywood from above. They fell down the last few stairs, Haywood crying out in pain. Brandon found himself face down on the floor. “Where is it? Where is it?” he screamed.

  Haywood pulled himself upright and crawled to lean against the wall. He struggled to answer. “Don’t know. You still got the flashlight?”

  Brandon felt around for it on his hands and knees, finding it after a moment. “Right here.” He sat on his haunches, searching for the “on” button. The beam of light erupted forward, shining on the vampire standing over him. He shouted incoherently and threw the flashlight at her, falling back on his butt and scooting away. Part of his brain registered Haywood yelling but he couldn’t make out the words over the rushing in his ears. He kept his eyes on the vamp as she caught the light, giving him a nice, well-lit target in the dark. He aimed the Super Soaker at her, giving it to her full force. The blast of holy water hit her chest and face, burning and sizzling like acid. Wailing and shrieking, eyesight destroyed in the melted remains of her face, she was completely unaware of Brandon’s proximity until he plunged a stake into her heart. Brandon stepped back as she dissolved into smoke, plucking the flashlight from her hand before it hit the floor. He swung around to shine the light at Haywood. “You say something?”

  Haywood gaped at him. “Nah.” He shook his head.

  Brandon helped him up. They continued on their way to the door.

  * * * *

  Jessie saw a flash of movement as she turned a corner. A shattered window led to a fire escape, rain blowing in and soaking the hallway. She stepped out on to the fire escape, finding nothing there, or in the alley below. The rain lashed her face, turning her hair into a heavy curtain and her clothes into a second skin. Clouds rolled through the night sky as if being chased, first hiding then revealing the nearly full moon. Jessie looked up at its silvery light and swore quietly, viciously. “Should have come alone,” she whispered to herself.

  “What would be the fun in that?” Draven slipped out of the shadows. “I mean, yeah, killing you is gonna be all kinds of fun, but it’s almost a shame you won’t be around to see what your new friends are like after... Well, after.” He finished with an ugly smile, fangs showing.

  “You know I won’t let that happen,” she told him.

  He chuckled, the sound harsh and flat. “It’s already happening. One of them is half dead already. You think that boy can defend himself against the likes of us? Don’t make me laugh. Oh, and the good reverend... Margot’s got special plans for him. He won’t be an official member of the family until tomorrow night, though.”

  Jessie took a step closer to him. “You seem really pleased with yourself, but are you sure you want William in the family? That could get, you know, complicated.” Haywood’s hurt, but hardly half dead. Does he know, or does he just hope I don’t know it?

  Draven looked confused then annoyed. “What do you mean, complicated?”

  Jessie gave him a sweet smile. “I noticed Margot hasn’t made any girl werewolves. Now she wants to bring another man into the family. William’s a minister, true, but he’s also a big, hot, sexy guy. So, tell me, Ethelder, are things not as they seem, or is your honey a faithless whore?”

  Draven snarled, launching himself at her too fast to give her time to step out of the way. He slammed into her and they crashed through the fire escape railing as if it were made of paper, tumbling through the air to the alley below. Draven hit the ground first, breaking her fall. The impact rattled her bones, snapping her teeth together. One fang sliced into her tongue. She rolled away from him, spitting blood. Lying on her back, she used her hands and feet to flip herself up to a standing position.

  He hopped up, wiping at a line of blood at his hairline. “It’s been a while since I had a good back alley brawl. This should be fun.”

  Jessie threw the first punch, her fist connecting with his jaw with a satisfying thwack. “I can’t disagree.”

  * * * *

  Kirkbride followed Margot to the roof. He stepped into the pouring rain, holding the bat ready, scanning for signs of her.

  “Did it hurt you, when they drank your boy dry?”

  He swung around, searching for her.

  “My pack is nearly destroyed. Don’t you think that hurts me?”

  “Where are you?” He marched across the roof to a line of crumbling chimneys.

  “Don’t you think it hurts to see my children killed?” She was screaming now. “Don’t you think I’ll make you pay for it?”

  “So come out and fight me instead of running your mouth!” he yelled. The rain started coming down harder, making it even more difficult for him to see. He went behind the line of chimneys, not sure if he saw movement around one of them or just rain.

  “I wanted to kill you. I wanted to rip you apart and make a meal of your entrails.” She spat the words at him. He tried to pinpoint her location, the rain making it impossible. “But then I had a better idea.”

  “You decided to talk me to death?” He circled around the chimneys, pausing to wipe rain from his eyes. “I’ll win a talk-a-thon, you know. I can quote the Bible at you all night long.”

  “More like you’ll be begging and screaming.”

  “And I will give peace in the land, and ye shall lie down, and none shall make you afraid, and I will rid evil beasts out of the land, neither shall the sword go through your land.” He made his way to the north side of the roof, squinting into the dark for signs of her.

  “I can be a harsh mother to my children, but only because they need it.”

  “The revenger of blood himself shall slay the murderer. When he meeteth him, he shall slay him.” A quick jog to the east, and still nothing.

  “You’ll learn to follow my rules, like the others.”

  Where the frak is she. “Thou shalt not plow with an ox and an ass together.” The south side of the roof. Below he saw Jessie through the sheets of rain, beating on somebody he
hoped was Draven.

  “Until then, I’ll give you all the correction you need.” Margot sprang up from the fire escape. She presented a breathtaking sight, wind tangling her dark hair, rain sluicing down her naked body. Kirkbride wondered briefly if she’d been beautiful once, before becoming a werewolf. Now, the word bestial seemed to apply far better than beautiful.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse to receive correction from you.” He swung the bat, aiming at her head like it was a fastball coming in right over the plate.

  Fast didn’t begin to cover it. Her body shimmered and melted into its wolf form. She vaulted into him hard, knocking him down and taking his breath away. She stood over him, her powerful legs holding him down. He looked into her blank eyes and tasted fear in the back of his throat.

  * * * *

  Jessie tossed Draven against the side of a dumpster, enjoying the way he bounced off it. “I thought about killing you a minute ago, when you were down on all fours spitting blood, but this is the most fun I’ve had all week.” With a sweeping kick she sent him to his knees again, another kick snapped his head around.

  He swore loudly, staying on the ground. “Why do you do this? Take their side?” He rubbed his arm across his mouth and nose to clear away some of the blood. “You like killing your own kind?”

  “No,” she said. “I don’t, but there are rules.”

  Draven laughed. “Rules? Monsters don’t have rules.” He came to his feet smoothly. “We’re creatures of the night. We don’t. Have. Rules.” He took a swing, his fist lighting up the side of her head and sending her rocking back on her heels. “I won’t keep my fangs in a box for anybody, even the king.” Another blow, this time to the other side of her head.

  She shook it off. “The king—”

  “Can be replaced.” He gave her a chilling smile. “And wouldn’t that be something? To have a real vampire at the Court of Monsters, instead of a pathetic loser who misses being human.”

  More than his smile chilled her. A different king, one who let monsters like Draven run free and do as they please. She couldn’t fathom how much damage that would do, didn’t want to fathom it. “A couple of punks like you and Fido don’t have a chance in hell of overthrowing the king.”

  He lunged, grabbing her by the shoulders and hauling her to him. Their lips were nearly close enough for a kiss. “What makes you think it’s just the two of us who feel this way? I bet we could find ourselves a whole bunch of monsters ready to take back the night.”

  She slammed her knee into his crotch and shoved him back against the dumpster. He laughed, a mad, rolling sound like marbles clicking together. She reached for the stake in her jacket as he launched a kick, his boot connecting with her shoulder. It sent her to the ground with a scream.

  More laughter as he grabbed her hair, pulling her halfway to her feet. “I really think—”

  The stake plunging into his heart cut off his words. In the brief moment he had left before dissolving into smoke, he looked like a naughty child surprised at getting caught.

  Jessie whispered, “I don’t care what you think.”

  The stake clattered to the ground and she went down hard on her knees as Draven melted into nothing. She tilted her face up to the rain, wishing it could wash this away. Knowing he had it coming didn’t make it any easier, though.

  A furious howl cut threw her thoughts. She jumped to her feet in time to be knocked down again as the wolf slammed into her. They grappled and fought, fists and claws and fangs. Blood dripped from the wolf’s muzzle into Jessie’s eyes. She didn’t give herself time to think about whose blood it might be. Hauling herself to the alley wall, she struggled for purchase, hands reaching for anything to grab onto as the wolf snapped at her head. Its teeth grazed her cheek and Jessie smelled William in the thing’s breath.

  Screaming incoherently, she kicked out with both feet, throwing the werewolf off her. It bounced against the alley wall, whining in pain. The werewolf was dazed enough to give Jessie time to get behind it. Wrapping one arm around the werewolf’s head, Jessie got her other hand planted against the skull. A quick, simple twist brought the fight to an end. Half wolf, half Margot, all dead, lay in a heap at Jessie’s feet.

  Jessie cupped her hand to catch rain-water, washing the blood from her eyes. She took a few ungainly steps, wanting to get out of the alley and find the others. She didn’t get far. A body crashed to the ground behind her. She spun around.

  “William!” she screamed, running to him. He lay face down, unmoving and bleeding. Her fingers found a weak pulse. “William, can you hear me?”

  His eyes fluttered open and he tried to roll himself over. She helped, and cried out when she saw his shredded pants leg. Looking closer, she found the flesh of his thigh torn and ripped, and not from claws. He’d been bitten, savagely. She took off her sodden jacket and wrapped it around his leg. Blood soaked through immediately.

  “Help us!” she shouted, over and over. His body convulsed, from shock, from the cold rain, from the poison already working its way through his blood and altering his DNA. She cradled him in her arms, both of them shaking, both of them soaked in blood and rain.

  Epilogue

  Brandon found her sitting on the curb outside the emergency room. He handed her a steaming cup of coffee as he sat down next to her. “She didn’t throw him off the roof. He threw himself over.”

  “Did he think she was going to kill him?” The coffee tasted like crap, but it was hot.

  “I don’t think so,” Brandon said thoughtfully. The rain had finally stopped, leaving the night with cool, clean air. “He’s pretty out of it right now, but it sounded like she told him she was going to, uh.”

  “Make him a werewolf,” Jessie finished for him. “You remember what I told you? About bites?”

  Brandon nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “The full moon isn’t ’til tomorrow, so he won’t change all the way, right?” She nodded once. “But he will be different?”

  “Yeah,” she said flatly. “He’ll be different.”

  He regarded her quietly for a long moment as they drank their bad coffee. It was getting close to dawn. She’d have to get back to her hotel soon. “You’re upset,” he started. “I mean, really upset. So why don’t you tell me what you’re so upset about.” He kept his voice even and light, but she could sense a layer of steel underneath. Haywood had told her what Brandon did, how he took out a vamp on his own. Did Brandon even know what he had in him? Most people didn’t, and if they ever found out it was at the worst possible time, under the worst possible circumstances. Moments of reckoning sounded like so much clichéd nonsense, but it had a ring of truth to it. The moment Brandon found himself faced with a vampire intent on killing him had been a reckoning for him. Panic and action were the two choices that existed for him in that moment, and without even thinking about it Brandon had made the choice of action. He had killed his first monster—she had no doubt it would only be his first—and saved both himself and Haywood.

  He would be different now too, but she felt no need to point that out to him. He was smart enough to figure it out on his own. As for William, and the reckoning he would soon be faced with, she couldn’t let herself think too much about it right now.

  “It’s different for every person it happens to,” she said finally. “There’s a lot of variables at play. Her blood, his blood, the moon phase, all those unquantifiable things that go along with magic.” She stopped.

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” he said.

  “Me too.” She finished her coffee and set the Styrofoam cup on the curb. “You should know, you may have to subdue him when the moon is full, especially at first.”

  “I’ll tell Haywood.” It wasn’t sinking in yet. She could tell from the tone of his voice.

  “You know I’m leaving.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I figure you got your job done, with the pack dead.”

  “Yeah. My work here is done.” She laughed, a brittle sound.
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  “What happens now?”

  Jessie shrugged. “You go back to being a reporter. Brother William...” Doesn’t go back, she thought but didn’t want to say.

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  She stood, picking up the empty cup and chucking it into a nearby waste can. “Because you’re not just a pretty face, Brandy. You are a hotshot investigative reporter, with a mind like a steel trap and instincts like, like, I don’t know.”

  “Something with really good instincts?” He laughed.

  Her demeanor turned serious. “Don’t do it.”

  He looked up at her. “Do what?”

  “Don’t turn yourself into Kolchak. Walk away from this, and stay away from it. Write about organized crime, political corruption. Hell, have a gossip column. Don’t throw your life away chasing shadows in the dark.” She pleaded with her eyes.

  He looked down to stare at his coffee. “Who’s Kolchak? Some old boyfriend?” He wouldn’t meet her eyes, but she could see his grin.

  She knew the decision had already been made, knew it even before she spoke, but she had to try. All she could do was hope trading daylight for nightfall wouldn’t get him killed. She reached out, twining her fingers in his hair. “You’re gonna have a thing for supernatural chicks now and it’s all my fault,” she teased.

  He took her hand in his as he stood. Still grinning, he said, “A real big thing for supernatural chicks.”

  They both laughed.

  “It’s almost dawn,” he said.

  “I know. I can smell it.”

  He furrowed his brow quizzically.

  “The air changes. Like the quality of the light will change. You’re out this time of night enough, you notice.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll keep a lot in mind.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back then her knuckles, still ragged from the fight with Draven.

  “You take care of yourself, Brandy, and take care of them too.” She didn’t have to tell him she meant Brother William, Haywood and Rowdy.

  “Take care of yourself, too, Jessie. Be careful.”