Splinter Skill

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Splinter Skill Page 13

by A C Bell


  The cold breeze berating my face made me shiver and I pulled my jacket tighter around myself. Thunder began rolling above us and it was quickly getting dark, but the guys made no move to head back.

  A loud clap of thunder erupted directly above me and I lurched over in surprise. I clasped my good hand over my right ear and tried to cover the other with my shoulder as best I could. The movement sent pain along my collar and both ears rang from the clamor anyway. That’s when I saw the dead coyote at my feet. I jumped back.

  Panic struck when I realized I couldn't see Peter or Raiden anymore. I rushed forward in the last direction I'd seen them, with no luck. Had they changed course? Would it be better to turn back? Yes, I decided. They were armed. They would be okay.

  I spun around and trekked the way I had come. The sun had sunk below the tree line. What dim light remained spider-webbed through the awning of evergreens casting creeping shadows across the forest floor. The sound of raindrops on the leaves was a steady curtain now, and I focused on it to keep myself grounded. Unfortunately, the rain and breeze only caused tree branches to sway. Every time I caught a glimpse of movement in my peripherals, I would swing to face the threat and find nothing. As I scanned the forest, I noticed a pair of glowing orbs.

  Every muscle in my body froze.

  The pair of glowing eyes met mine, close to the ground. My sight was finally starting to adjust to the low light and I could discern that the shape looked vaguely like a hulking dark wolf. There there wolves in this area? Apparently. It watched me closely, studying my every move.

  With my mind whirring, I tried to remember what to do in this situation. Backing up was the first step, so I wouldn’t be close enough to be an immediate threat. Slowly. So Slowly. Without turning my back on it. I slid one foot backward over the ground—the leaves made more noise than I would have liked—and the wolf stepped forward. I tried again with the other foot and the wolf came two steps closer, lips pulling apart in a low growl. I stopped, heart pounding in my chest.

  My knowledge of wildlife wasn't that extensive, but I did know that wolves aren't actually as aggressive as they're depicted in visual media. Not without reason. Was I in its territory? I didn't have time to speculate. I took a deep breath, forcing my brain to act. Meet aggression with aggression. Don't let them think you're submissive. That was the other rule, right? I hoped so. I scanned the ground for a sturdy branch. A stick wouldn't do much damage with only one arm to swing it with, but unfortunately that's all I had unless I wanted to pelt it with pebbles.

  Its ears suddenly perked up and it turned to look over its shoulder. It hunched in a snarl. I followed its gaze and saw another wolf, grey, emerge from the underbrush. It was smaller than the first, easier to see. My breath caught. One wolf, I might be able to fight off with one arm. Maybe. If I was clever and fast. But not two. The second wolf started forward, threatening the other with a snarl of its own. I noticed a faint limp in its back-right leg.

  They stared at one another, each seeming to wait to see what move the other would make. I took advantage of their distraction and began a slow retreat. The black wolf crouched low, getting ready to attack. It charged and the gray wolf launched forward. At the last moment before impact, however, the black wolf veered off course. It headed straight for me.

  12 New Divide

  I heard the pounding of feet behind me and willed my feet to move faster, but something snagged the back of my leather jacket and jarred me off my feet. As I fell, whichever wolf had my jacket gave it another big tug. Since it was only draped over my bad arm, the force wrenched my good arm backward and left me unable guard my bad arm from the impact when I hit the ground. I cried out, but the jacket was pulled free and I grabbed the closest weapon I could find. I spun around and struck the black wolf with the rock as its teeth neared. Up close, I couldn’t believe how big it was. Long, humanoid arms swung up as it backpedaled, shielding its face. Something was wrong, so wrong. What was this thing?

  Before either of us could react further, the grey wolf charged into the black one, sending it reeling down a decline. While the black wolf was indisposed, the grey moved toward me. It growled threateningly. My heart felt like it would burst, it was beating so hard. I threw my foot into its face and scrambled back to my feet to make a run for it. It was beginning to rain heavier now and another clash of thunder disguised the sound of my retreat. I heard the creatures scuffling behind me. My relief cut short when I heard one give a sickening cry. Before I knew it, feet were drumming the earth behind me again. There! The edge of the forest. More footsteps echoed further behind. Were there more?

  “Adeline!” Peter shouted.

  I didn’t dare turn around to find him. Cold rain drenched me the moment I broke through to the park. My victory was short lived. The black wolf had cut off my route to the street, crouching threateningly between me and the road. Iridescent green eyes watched my every move in anticipation and the beast's muzzle scrunched in an aggressive snarl.

  In better lighting, I could tell just how not-wolfish this thing was. A long narrow snout bared sharp teeth, its limbs were too long, its chest was the shape of a man’s, and the paws digging into the mud were not paws; They were clawed hands. Black fur covered every inch. What was this thing?

  It hunkered low to the ground getting ready to leap and all I could do was step helplessly backward. The beast stepped forward and I prepared for the worst until Peter bolted in front of me. The monster halted.

  “Peter, no!” I cried.

  He reached a hand out in my direction to tell me to stay put. What was wrong with his hand? His arm hair was thicker than normal and his nails—they looked like claws. Peter’s full attention was on the beast, which was sitting on its back feet in a humanoid crouch.

  “If you even think about biting her, I will kill you.” Venom dripped from Peter’s words.

  The abomination made a low guttural sound that set the hairs on my neck on end. Was it laughing? Peter ran forward. He avoided several powerful swipes of its claws and struck it in the jaw with his fist. I scanned the trees for something I could use. I felt the need to help, to do something. But what? My quandary was cut short when Peter ducked under its arm and jumped onto its back. His face, why did it look like that? He couldn’t close his mouth completely with his teeth long and sharp. His eyes practically glowed in the low light.

  The creature tried to swing Peter off of his back, but he clung on like a famished tick and kept his arm wrapped around the creature’s neck. Raiden sprinted from the forest and leveled his rifle at them.

  “No!” I grabbed Raiden’s arm. “You’ll hit Peter!”

  He snarled, watching the fight uselessly and lowered the gun. Peter pulled something from his pocket, but I couldn’t tell what it was. He jammed it into the creature’s chest. It let out a noise of surprise and reached over its head to grab him with both arms. Peter let himself be pried off and it threw him toward us.

  Raiden swore and dropped the rifle to catch him, so I moved out of the way. They flew back a few feet and landed poorly on the ground. The creature pulled a large tranq dart from its chest and tossed it aside. I thought about trying to pick up the gun, but how would that even work with one arm? Slade suddenly sprinted in front of me. Slade too? He leveled his own gun on it, but hesitated. The beast stumbled and gripped its forehead with a clawed hand. The tranquilizer was setting in. The grey wolf emerged through the trees just as the other creature sprinted into them. The wolf followed and Raiden moved to do the same, but Slade grabbed his arm.

  “Get her out of here. We can take care of him,” he said. Raiden looked over at me and nodded. Slade sent a worried glance my way before he and Peter trailed after the wolves.

  The steady pour of rain was all I could hear around me, now, in their absence. I was only vaguely aware of Raiden collecting his rifle. Peter. What was up with Peter? My mind flashed back to his mouthful of sharp teeth and clawed hands.

  How was this possible?

  How was this pos
sible?

  I could feel my entire body quaking, hear my breath shaking. It took a few moments to realize Raiden was standing in front of me.

  “Are you hurt? Did he bite you?” he asked. I must have shaken my head because relief softened his features. “Come on.”

  I couldn’t find the words to respond, but I allowed Raiden to lead me to the black sedan parked along the sidewalk, the same car I’d hidden behind while spying on Peter. So, Raiden and Slade had been here before Peter.

  Raiden drove in silence with the heater blasting and I stared blankly out the windshield, not really taking in my surroundings. My mind didn’t seem to want to do any mental lifting whatsoever at the moment and I wasn’t inclined to make it. When Raiden turned the ignition off what felt like an eternity later, I looked over at my dorm across the parking lot. Neither of us moved.

  “We didn't want you to find out like this,” he finally said. “We didn’t know how to tell you when we got here, so we put it off. Then everything with Justin started. It was obvious you were stressed, so we put it off again.”

  My brain clicked back on. “What the hell?” I said, my voice growing louder with each word. “Peter, he just—what the hell?!” I couldn’t get my breathing under control. Was I hyperventilating?

  “It’s okay.” Raiden turned to reach for me but I squirmed away from him.

  “I need air,” I said. I stumbled from the car and heard Raiden’s door open behind me. His hand found my shoulder a few moments later.

  “This way.” He directed me to one of the benches nestled under the large apple tree at the side of the building so we were mostly out of the rain. “You’re having a panic attack. Put your head between your legs if you can.” A panic attack? I hadn’t had a panic attack in my life. With my arm in the sling, I couldn’t lower my head to my knees, but I bent as close as I could. After a few deep breaths my breathing started to calm.

  Whatever was going on, I forced myself to face it. Raiden’s green eyes met mine when I straightened. “Why were you all out there?

  “We think he killed that camper who went missing, Jenny McMillan. We wanted to catch him because the officials’ hands are tied until there’s proof that it wasn’t just an animal. We didn’t want local authorities to find him. They wouldn't just have run the risk of being injured or killed, they would risk being turned.”

  “'Turned'.”

  He shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “He wasn't a wolf.”

  I sputtered a cynical laugh. “I could see that. So, what then? A werewolf?”

  “A type of werewolf. They’re called Cynocephali, or Cynephi for short.”

  “You mean like Anubis?”

  Raiden nodded. “Exactly like Anubis.”

  “And…what about Peter?”

  “A canisapian, or canisi; The other type of werewolf. They turn into wolves. I’ve never seen one only partially Change like Peter did, though. Cynephi are the only werewolves who can infect people. Canisi are born.”

  “And what about you and Slade?”

  “We’re called lamia.”

  I snorted a humorless laugh, rested my forehead in my hand and shook my head. “You mean you’re vampires. Unbelievable.” Mythology had always been an interest to me, but of course, I’d always just assumed mythological creatures were the offspring of superstition and stories meant to encourage kids to behave. But I’d seen this “cynocephalus” myself. I’d seen Peter change his face. I couldn’t really reject the idea of supernatural beings just because I’d always adhered to normal thinking.

  “We try to avoid the word ‘vampire’,” Raiden said. “It has a…negative connotation these days.”

  “I think it’s always had a ‘negative connotation,’, Sparkles,” I quipped. Raiden’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “So, what does this have to do with me?”

  “In the 1500s, a group of Vjesci had gathered in Germany. Vjesci were—”

  “A cult following a vampire religion.”

  “What?” Raiden stared, confused. “How do you know about them?”

  “Someone left a book for me; A journal written by one of the leaders, Xavier Cahn.”

  His mouth curled into a frown and I could see where this was going. “It wasn’t a vampire religion, they were a breed of vampire. One that’s nearly extinct now. Xavier Cahn broke taboo and had a baby with a human, resulting in your family line. A friend of Slade’s knew Xavier back then and asked us to check up on you.”

  “A friend of Slade’s wanted you to tell me that I’m related to a vampire? A different kind of vampire than you and Slade?” My brain raced to keep up with what he was saying. “Does that make me a dhampir?”

  “Yes.”

  I shook my head and closed my eyes. “I could very easily freak out again,” I said calmly.

  “We can help you,” he said. “We can teach you what you need to know.”

  “Do I need to know?” I thought back to the cynocephalus. Were there more monstrous things out there? If there were, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know about them. The question was, could I live with just sticking my head in the sand and pretending they didn’t exist?

  “What happens next is up to you,” he said.

  “Is everything okay here?”

  I looked to the familiar voice behind Raiden. “Officer Hanlen, hi,” I greeted. I hadn’t seen him since he’d walked me to my dorm a month ago. His hair was longer now, actually curling around the edges of his Officer’s hat.

  Officer Hanlen eyed Raiden warily and walked over to my side of the bench. “Everything’s fine, Raiden just offered to walk me back to my dorm,” I lied.

  The tension in Hanlen’s shoulders didn’t ease. He met my gaze earnestly, his eyebrows crinkled slightly in guilt. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened with that other guy. I wish I’d been there to help.”

  After the night I’d had, I really wasn’t in the mood to talk about Justin. I stood and Raiden followed suit. “Thanks, but everything is fine. I should really get to bed.” Before either of them could say anything else, I jogged over to the lobby door.

  ✽✽✽

  The door of the bathroom stood as a barrier, both keeping the outside world out and keeping me inside. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror staring at my reflection as if it were a stranger. I’d been contemplated everything about myself. What would be different if my veins weren’t coursing with…inhuman blood? Would I have suffered from acne in high school as almost every other teenager did? Would my features be as even? Would my height have led to clumsiness? Certainly, I wouldn’t have the same coordination that had helped in my defeats of Peter in various sports and just last night played a role in saving my life as I fled from the raging man-beast. Not without the help of inhuman blood. Would I? It felt like I'd spent my entire life cheating on a test or something. Inhuman. I wasn't sure how I was going to adjust to the idea of being inhuman.

  This prompted another thought. Peter, a guy I'd known for years, was also ‘inhuman’. I suddenly felt guilty for thinking of it that way. Just because he was different—okay, “different” was an understatement—didn't mean that it was necessarily a bad thing, right? He was still Peter, one of my closest friends, someone I trusted my life with. So why should my own situation be any different?

  Now I just had to actually convince myself of that last part and I'd be fine. Another thought took over occupation of my mind. Aside from Peter, what other supernatural occurrences had I brushed off with “logical” explanations? Back in the alley before Peter and I ended up in that lake, I’d assumed hitting my head had played tricks on me. Clearly, the man couldn’t have pushed me with telekinesis. But before that my name tag had gone farther than made sense and just when my back was turned, the door had shut itself. What if it hadn’t? Had that man been something supernatural? Had he been cornering me?

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been standing there when the door to the dorm opened and drew my attention back to reality. Quickly, I rinsed my face and pulled the bathr
oom door open.

  “Hey.” I smiled at Nikki. I glanced at the clock across the room and furrowed my brows in confusion.

  “Teacher canceled.” Nikki kicked off her shoes and flopped comfortably onto her bed. Watching her so relaxed eased my spirits. I was so happy to see her acting like herself again. “Why are you up so early? Isn't waking up before noon toxic to you or something?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not noon. More like somewhere between nine and ten-thirty. Anyway, my shoulder woke me up and I couldn't get back to sleep. Thought I'd go for a run before class.”

  “Alright, have fun Lola Jones.”

  “Lolo Jones? She does hurdles.”

  Nikki chuckled. “Fine, then. How's…uh…Erin Donovan?”

  “'Donohue'. Much better.” I shot her a thumbs-up and then headed out for my run.

  I considered stopping by Peter's room before I left, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop at his door. As had become habit by now, I tried to run off everything I was feeling. The doubts, the worries. I hadn’t gotten much sleep, panicked about what might have happened to Pete, Slade, and whoever the grey wolf had been. Had they been able to ‘take care’, as Slade had said, of the beast? Had any of them gotten hurt?

  After looping my way back to the dorm building, I forced my feet to stop at his door this time. Raising my hand, I prepared to rap on the white painted wood, but then lost my nerve and lowered it. Several deep breaths. I could do this. Just knock on the door and he would answer. I lifted my hand again when the door suddenly opened. Peter looked surprised to find me on the other side. For a moment, he looked embarrassed. At least, until I lunged to hug him. With my one good arm, anyway.

  “I’m okay,” he chortled returning the hug carefully so he wouldn’t hurt my shoulder. “Still in one piece, anyway.”

  I pulled back and took in everything about his appearance. There were no visible wounds on his arms, but he held his backpack on his right shoulder instead of his left, indicating a hurt shoulder in some way. He also seemed to be putting less pressure on his right leg. I eyed the black plaid throw scarf around his neck.

 

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