Shade's Loss

by Christina Worrell

  “I will be there shortly. Gideon is out training this week and will not miss me.”

  “Thank you,” he replied before hanging up. Just because he had a cell did not mean he had to talk on it. He said what he needed and was done. People who kept him hanging just infuriated him.

  Damon’s car would hit two eighty, not legally of course and he pushed it to one fifty so he could return to his new curious acquisition as quickly as possible. She stirred things in him emotionally he had thought lost, since his mortal days.

  Not even forty minutes later he was pulling into the city parks parking area and grabbing the bag in the trunk. His temporary shelter here may have been compromised and he would be in his home with the girl for some time anyways. He would leave no trace of himself behind and call the cleaners in after he made sure the Lykan was truly dead. He should have died after the bite he dealt the boy but he would not take those risks. Damon would finish up the job as he was bid to do.

  Damon would have been done with it earlier but with Shade there he found that too cruel. He would not have finished him off with her standing there. Nor could he let her wait up top or outside and take the chance she would flee.

  As a Daywalker he was not only an outcast to his kind but invaluable as a Tracker. He could move about day or night which not only increased his odds of finding paranormals that needed put down but also gave him opportunities to deal with mortals if the need arose.

  If Gideon had not chosen to be his Master he might have been staked and left to rot just as his true sire had attempted.

  Damon was a free immortal but there were limitations to his rank. His Master Gideon had saved not only his life but showed him how to be a benefit to the paranormal world.

  The vampire who had sired him died in the attempt to take his life. Damon had been left to roam alone and feed on anything that was alive. Gideon had knocked him unconscious and carried him to his castle and more or less took him under wing.

  As a vampire you had to have a Master until you either reached a thousand years, sired your own, or your Master died. He was seven hundred so he had another three hundred to go unless he sired Shade.

  As a Daywalker his kind feared him so much that he was on a tighter chain than most. Any infractions could cause for him the true death.

  Damon went into a rage as he saw the door to the vault had been ripped open.

  He ran in to find the restraints on the floor next to the table and a blood trail leading to the door where the Lykan, who had to be near death, had somehow managed to not only wrench the door open but nearly off the hinges.

  Damon quickly gathered the few things he needed and used a spray to remove any fingerprints and to dissolve any hairs he left behind. Technology was not something he was particularly fond of but at least he was able to cover his tracks. It was part of the job requirements.

  He would have called the cleaners but seeing as there was no body it would be suspicious. He was the best Tracker they had and his body count tripled most others, even the best of the Elite’s. If they saw him slipping before his thousand year mark they may find him of little use.

  Of course he would run but so far every paranormal that was condemned found death.

  He was more different than any other of his kind could be and never beaten in battle. Only Gideon could damage him so he had a shot.

  They didn’t call them Trackers for nothing. Damon had tracked one demon through all of Asia and then into Europe before he finally caught him.

  Demons were another matter altogether. Only certain species were hunted and the rest only if they violated precise rules.

  Instinct guided him but also training taught by retired trackers.

  The ranks were all according to the age of the paranormal. It started with of course Newborns who stayed with their Sires or Masters until they were a hundred or so years old.

  After you had been a paranormal for a hundred years and could control yourself, for vampires it was thirst, then you became a consort training under a Master for another hundred years. After that you were a tracker and went through three ranks Warriors, Knights, and Elites, each at least a hundred years before becoming a Master or Sire.

  At that time, at least five hundred years preferably closer to a thousand, you could then sire your own and train them for their time or Master another paranormal for a total of three hundred years minimum. After a thousand years you were considered Royal.

  Royals were Nobles, Lords, and Counts and you had to rule for three hundred years for each of those ranks before you could be considered a Prince, all who were over two thousand years old.

  Being only seven hundred he was an Elite, now a free paranormal and could mate or sire his own. If he had been any younger he could not sire Shade and would have eventually had to pass her along or drain her dry.

  The immortal world had few rules but they were strict. First and foremost no mortals could ever know of their existence or a war would erupt and many humans and paranormals alike would perish. Not something he wanted on his conscious.

  Damon sighed as he remembered how hard he had worked to get this far. Very soon he could earn his right as a Master and he would never have to rank up again. He could be secluded or serve his time training others.

  All he had to do was tell Gideon he wanted to sire Shade and for three hundred years they would be free to be alone, free to train her in their ways, if he was allowed to because of his abilities.

  First he had to find her brother and finish him off and hope Shade wouldn’t hate him for it. If by some miracle she understood and did not turn from him he would be surprised.

  He left the vault and returned to his car to leave his bag. He would have to find the trail for the feral wolf in his panther form. A vampire shape shifter was another anomaly. No other vampire could shift like he could. It was such a rare talent that the Nobles were not sure if his sired newborn would carry it or if it was human genetics alone. Either way he may have a hard time if anyone other than Gideon found out his desire to turn Shade.

  Damon returned to the little building and shifted out of sight.

  The bone weary ache started and he accepted the small amount of pain that came with it. His whole structure changed from vampire to monster. Mainly his fangs, claws, muscled strength, and speed were affected, but physical appearance too. His height was near that of a bear and combined with his formidable weapons he was lethal. Not even bullets could stop him. They might slow him to the speed of a mortal but more than likely it would just anger him.

  In the feline form he had other stronger abilities such as smell. He could pick up thousands of smells immediately, coffee and gas fumes mainly. It was not easy delving through the individuals in pursuit of one single smell. Fortunately a shape shifter or werewolf had a distinct one as was Shade’s brothers. His was musty like most werewolves but having just changed from a human his was still more of a sweaty odiferous kind. Human smells like deodorant, shampoo, and laundry detergent accompanied the wolfish odor leaving a unique and traceable one.

  Had the feral changed months ago he would have more of a bloodied, fleshy smell of prey and a wooded scent. Somewhat like that of a real wolf or another predator.

  Damon immediately caught it and ran north through the woods along the river. There was another smell mingling with the Lykan’s but it made no difference. The trail was still pretty fresh for him and it would not take long to find the fresh Lykan, especially in the city with its crazy food smells and garbage, and if the shifter used the river than he would lose the creature and have to wait for news of any attacks in the area. Once in the river the creature could go anywhere. The sea was worse because the salt changed the odor from a wet dog to a fishy scent.

  Feral werewolves could not shift back to human. They could not remember how and the bloodlust was uncontrollable. Soon this Lykan would be ravenous if he had not already fed. If he had then Damon would smell the fresh blood or find a corpse.

  The longer this job took th
e longer it would take to tame the kitten he had back home and convince her to join him as a vampire. He would make the girl happy. He would provide for her and give her anything she desired.

  Shade was young but he himself was only twenty when he was bitten. His body was still that of a stout teenager even if he himself was not. In his time age was not as important as it was today, mortal years anyways, his true age was altogether another matter.

  Up ahead he heard an ominous howl, could only be the feral. Damon smiled viciously, his darker side filling with pleasure at the thought of another job well done, and surged forward to make the kill and call the cleaners.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Shade was growing more restless by the minute but had yet to come up with an alternate plan. If she was not gone before the vampire returned then she would be giving up her humanity, and she had lost enough in her life to actually consider it.

  Of course nothing she had read about vampires could possibly be true. At least she fervently hoped so.

  She wandered aimlessly about Damon’s bare house. She could not even rob him and make out like a bandit with her spoils. He had one couch and an average sized television in one room, a small but adequate kitchen table, fridge, stove, washer and dryer, other than the bed and dresser in his room, or shortly her room. So without a moving truck she was pretty screwed on that front and even the payout would not give her a new life.

  She had nothing to her name or any family or friends. She would more than likely go back to a group home for several weeks until either she turned eighteen or she got a court date and plead emancipation, either way hiding out two weeks here was her best option and then she might be able to make it on her own from there.

  Shade perused the cable channels for about four hours. She grew tired and meandered slowly towards the bathroom. She had noticed last time she was in there that there was no shower or tub, only a doorway leading to another room. She would look in there later and see if maybe the tub was just in another room. She was in need of a shower at this point of course. She had washed her arms and face off as soon as Damon had left, which left her still far from clean.

  Shade went back to the dark bedroom for clean clothes and saw her brother’s jacket lying at the foot of the bed. She picked it up and held it against her. She could smell him on the black leather like he was right there with her. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine him in the same room with her now and holding her, protecting her still. Telling her she could do this, she could figure it out if she would only try.

  “Mikhail! You promised to take care of me…” she cried. She threw herself down on the bed, cuddling with her brother’s jacket. She bawled for the last person in the world who had loved her. Both her parents and now her brother were gone. She was all alone with a crazy ass vampire who meant to turn her as soon as he could. She was dead but could not join them, forever alone, forever at the side of a hunter, a killer.

  Pain shattered her heart into a million tiny fragments leaving her breathless along with an odd echo of screams in her head.

  Shade’s cries continued far into the night. Her chest burned, her face soaked, and her throat raw. Her voice died out long before the tears subsided. It was nearly dawn when she finally passed out. Only at her parent’s funeral had she cried so much. Only a handful of people had shown up, mainly their co-workers and a neighbor.

  Shade was alone in a macabre horror world with an assassin vampire, someone who would turn her shortly, making her like him. Her nightmares were full of glowing eyes and bloody teeth. She could make out a figure in the dark and something told her to call for them to save her. Who was in the shadow? Was Damon her dark hero or her killer?

  She never saw the woman at the window checking on her, empathizing with her and wishing her happiness. The woman whose heart broke for the young girl, she understood more than Shade would ever know. She had been here once. Her Gideon had stolen everything, even though things turned out for the best, at the time when her life had been ripped away by the only person willing to be there for her it was hell. To see day in and day out the face of the killer who tore her family away. Sometimes it was too much to bear. Shade was not alone in this.

  She watched her for a moment more before running home to her husband, even though he was a brutal monster she loved him still, he could be kind, understanding, and loving. She always would love him no matter how hard it was.

  Damon was close enough now to the Lykan that he could hear the labored breathing and heavy footfalls. It would not be much longer. The feral beast’s life would be over and he could finally go home. He had been chasing the werewolf for over three hours now. It would be dawn soon and he would have to change back to his human form.

  Up ahead a growl ripped through the night sending a flock of roosting birds to the sky, screaming in terror. He understood their fear, for when a feral wolf howled all his pent up anger went with it. He believed they went mad because they had become a monster and lost everything from their human life. Their humanity was shredded leaving nothing behind.

  Another, separate, different howl rent the air sending chills down his back, a female by the sound of it. He was almost on top of them. How did a female escape his attention unless… it couldn’t be? There were only two males in the area unless she was passing through. Unless…

  It was his duty to find out.

  Just as he abruptly came upon them, the smaller female pushed the male towards the bridge, to the swiftly flowing river. The male hesitated only a moment, looking directly at Damon, before jumping. There had been fear and regret in the dark and brutal eyes, pain and self damnation written clearly across the creatures face providing Damon with a glimpse at the horror within a monster, within a creature unable to control its basic needs to the point of violence and death.

  Damon lunged the last few feet to follow the beast over but the female tackled him. Her force shoved him back, gravel grinding across his back scraping his shoulder raw where it had just healed. Her claws piercing his shoulders and pinning him, his tail lashed madly to find balance. She was small but so powerful. She had to be older, over a thousand years. There was few who could keep him down, none that would ever best him other than the ancients and the princes. He knew he could win this if he stayed on her.

  He swiped a paw at her eyes distracting her as he twisted so she fell to the right and him to the left. Blood welled across her forehead in three straight lines where his claws had penetrated before she had moved enough.

  He had his paws under him in a millisecond and lunged again landing on top of her bearing all his weight down on her as his fangs entered her jugular tearing downward spilling her blood on the both of them. He realized instantly just by the taste of her blood who she was and how powerful she was. She was older than Gideon by far. Her blood was not like other wolves, more potent and tolerable. He took his fill and turned to face her as he realized she had stopped fighting back. She had only wanted to slow him down and if he fed she could keep him distracted with her blood.

  He saw little challenge in her bright eyes, little resistance.

  One word passed through her furry canine muzzle.

  “Mine!” Her deep growling shrieks echoing all around.

  She was hunting it? How was she able to speak? Only the ancients could speak in wolf form, of course it made sense now. She was an ancient and he had just tasted her blood. Hell there it hadn’t been a newborn werewolf in a hundred years that was not feral. So many questions…

  Damon quickly switched back to his human form so they could speak. He did not have the ability to manipulate speech in the feline form. Somehow he believed that was an ability he would never have.

  Her blood coated him and slowly made its way through his system, empowering him beyond anything he had ever known. This was amazing, like stepping into the dawn after a full feeding and finding nothing more than a brilliant daybreak without the flames that other vampires feared.

  She shifted immediately as well losing her
strength in her human form, leaving her at a disadvantage. Damon quickly tossed her aside and stood his clothes already in place. He believed the clothes came through the transformation became his panther form’s fur. Either way it was not something he consciously considered.

  The female was dressed in the ancient’s way with a bejeweled tunic piece that was obviously handmade.

  “You are hunting that feral?” he asked perplexed, shaking off what he could of their blood. He pushed his hair back from his face and looked at her waiting for an answer.

  “That was no feral you stupid shifter!” She cried.

  The woman in front of him looked so familiar. Like a memory on the verge of breaking.

  “He was bitten yesterday and tried to attack his sister right after.”