by Eva Brandt
Most of the roof of the building was made out of glass. Through some kind of miracle, it hadn’t shattered until now, but my luck had just run out. The fragile surface yielded to our combined weight, and we fell straight through the roof, into the club. At the last moment I rolled my body in a position that made sure I would be on top when we eventually hit the ground, but despite my precautions, the impact still jarred me.
For a few seconds, I just lay there, on top of my vampiric opponent, dazed and woozy. Through the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the crowd of panicked humans trying to process what had happened. For the most part, they seemed too shocked to do anything about it, but there was one notable exception.
A clear female voice slashed through the silence, both soft and stern, filled with a determination that reached out to me on a visceral level. “Diane, get an ambulance! The police! Someone!”
I did not know who Diane was, but it did not matter, because the police and the ambulance could not help us now. The human woman had already come too close, and it was only a matter of time until she got hurt due to her desire to help. I’d had an unexpected bout of good fortune in that the fall through the roof hadn’t done any damage to anyone except me and the vampire. I knew better than to think that my luck would hold.
As expected, the vampire beneath me awoke, and I snapped his neck before he could attack my would-be rescuer. At that point, I actually got a good look at her, and my first reaction was to ask myself what in the name of the gods an angel was doing in the middle of a human city.
For a few moments, I entertained the brief hope that the divine assholes had decided to get off their asses and had come to help the rest of us. I didn’t think anyone could’ve blamed me for that assumption, considering the fact that the woman’s fair skin practically glowed, and her dark, alluring gaze reminded me of the sky on a moonlit night. Her hair tumbled to her shoulders in waves of jet black silk, curling around her cheekbones and drawing my eyes to her generous breasts.
Of course, it didn’t take me long to notice that the only magical thing about the brunette was her beauty. When I fought back the humans who tried to immobilize me, she was obviously shocked, not knowing what to make of what was going on. She didn’t fall apart upon the arrival of the rest of the scavengers, facing them without flinching. Even so, she was still only a human, helpless when confronted with this kind of threat, and I needed to get her out of harm’s way posthaste.
The unexpected argument of the scavengers bought us some time, and I ushered her toward the exit, hoping she’d be able to make her escape while I stalled. Sadly, at that exact moment, the vampire I had taken out earlier recovered from my initial attack and made a grab for her ankle. “Where do you think you’re going, my tasty morsel?” he asked.
She went pasty white, her shock and fear standing out starkly on her pale face, awakening every single protective instinct in my body. The sight of him touching her skin infuriated me beyond belief, and my first impulse was to pull her out of my enemy’s grasp. But jerking on her would’ve been a recipe for disaster, as her bones and flesh were far more liable to break than those of a vampire. The simplest solution was to attack one of the few organs that was a universal vulnerable point in most creatures. The heart.
In a convenient development, the vampire had gotten distracted by the brunette’s scent and had left his chest exposed. Despite the fact that his injuries must’ve healed by now, he hadn’t moved much from his spot on the floor, and I was still close enough to take advantage of that.
In a matter of moments, I jumped on the vampire, straddled his waist and buried my fist in his chest. It was not a pleasant sensation, as the density of vampire bone, especially in the chest area, made it difficult for such a simple attack to succeed. But I had always been stronger than most guardians. I ignored the pain that erupted through me when the bones in my hand broke and reached for the organ that was my target.
Within less than ten seconds, the vampire was dead, this time permanently. “Well,” the woman mumbled by my side, “that was... efficient.”
It was a minor miracle that she could still stand, let alone speak. Most humans did not react well to the presence of so many Accursed, especially those of spiritual nature. It gave me hope that the beautiful human might still be able to keep her life, despite the unfortunate circumstances we found ourselves in. “You need to run. I’ll hold them off.”
The woman saw the sense in this. By the time I finished the sentence, she had already freed herself from the vampire’s lax grip and was slowly backing away.
Sadly, despite my so-called efficiency, my actions had a regrettable side-effect. The scavengers remembered where they were, and that they had bigger things to worry about than the rules of their little group.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” the leader said. “You’re not going anywhere.”
The time for speeches was over, and they all lunged forward once again, much like they had in the alley. Most of them surrounded me, but others targeted the humans still within their reach. Two scavengers, a vampire and a shifter, grabbed the lovely stranger, and the scent of human blood filled the air as the shifter’s claws dug into her arm.
I saw red. The coppery scent, coupled with the pained cry she let out, flipped a switch in my mind. I had always prided myself on my control, on the fact that I had a better hold over my beast than most shape-shifters—be they werewolves or of any other breed—but all that went out the window the moment I saw the beautiful woman get hurt.
My Accursed nature emerged out of me with a vengeance, and my body twisted, my bones cracking as they reformed into those suited to a different shape, a different creature. I didn’t mind the pain. If anything, I valued it, because it cleared my head and kept me anchored into my true sense of self, allowing me to focus on my target instead of going on a rampage like so many of my kin did.
Usually, I didn’t change shapes during my missions, as it wasn’t something my superiors encouraged. Right then and there, I couldn’t have cared less about their opinion. In fact, my previous approach actually turned out to be useful, since my sudden shift surprised the scavengers surrounding me. “What the hell is he...” someone next to me muttered.
The rest of the sentence died in a gurgle as I had already jumped on top of him and ripped his throat out. I wasn’t sure the death would be permanent, but I also didn’t have time to check. My priority targets were the unwise two scavengers who had dared to touch the beautiful woman. For that, I would make sure they paid the ultimate price.
In two powerful leaps, I made my way to their side. The shape-shifter saw me coming and changed forms as well. He was a lion-shifter, and therefore, a little larger than me. I didn’t mind it. In fact, his species suited me just fine, since the lupine part of me had always enjoyed putting felines in their place. During a regular battle, I might have even taken my time doing so, despite the fact that playing with my prey wasn’t in my character, but today, I refrained from such self-indulgent behavior. When the lion jumped at me, I shifted back into human form, pivoting on my heel like a dancer. The discombobulated feline skidded past me, which gave me just enough time to grab my second opponent and summarily dispatch him. I had to content myself with slicing the vampire’s throat with my claws, as I didn’t have time for anything more elaborate or one hundred percent lethal. The vampire would likely recover, but this injury alone would give me the chance to handle the second threat.
Confirming my guess, the feline returned within less than thirty seconds. By that time, however, I had already changed back into my wolf form, forcing the lion to readjust his perspective yet again. In the chaos and confusion, I climbed onto his back and buried my fangs into his jugular. The feline’s mane made it difficult for me to get a good grip, but I’d almost managed it when I heard the gunshot. Seconds later, pain erupted over my body, impossible for me to fight back.
Despite the idiocy many scavengers displayed on a regular basis, their aim tended to be impeccable. Today
was no different, and the silver bullet embedded itself straight into my spine, in a spot I usually wouldn’t have left exposed, but that had been wide open due to my battle with the lion.
My hold on the other shifter faltered and I rolled off him, onto the floor, convulsing in agony as the silver attacked my very essence, the core of cursed magic that made me what I was. I tried to control it, to force out the bullet. My efforts were for naught, as such weapons were designed to do as much damage as possible to an Accursed. It was ironic, considering the fact that it was mostly other Accursed who used them.
Through my haze of pain, I heard the scavengers say something, but the words were impossible to discern. My senses betrayed me, and reality seemed to come to me through a thick, silver-shaded haze.
I suddenly realized I was going to die here. Despite my previous decision, I was going to die. And worst of all, so would the woman I had wanted so badly to protect.
I had failed in the task I’d dedicated my life to. Maybe my pack had been right all along. Maybe this was a punishment for having betrayed them, for turning my back on them and on their quest. Not only had I been unable to achieve my goal, but I might have also inadvertently made things worse by being the indirect cause of this battle.
With the last vestiges of my strength, I stole a look at the beautiful, bold woman who could’ve had and been so much more if the Accursed had not shown up in her life. “I’m sorry,” I thought to myself. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”
At the back of my mind, something pulsed, and the wound all Accursed had to endure vibrated with renewed agony. “I’m sorry,” I thought again. “Please... Please, live.”
I had no idea if the woman heard me, or if the gods did, but when I felt my body stop fighting the silver, I knew what was happening. If it had been in my ability, I would have smiled, because I understood then that not all hope was lost.
My debt, the debt inherent to my existence, might still be repaid.
Three
Fuck My Life
Lucienne
Throughout my life, I had seen and snorted at enough paranormal flicks to be at least moderately familiar with such mythology. Even so, I had never considered the existence of paranormal creatures a true possibility. The world didn’t work that way. Human beings could not turn into animals, the same way they couldn’t bend metal with their minds, manipulate the elements or mind-control others through telepathy. Our bodies were limited, and that was why technology existed, to bypass those limitations, to help us grow into something we could not otherwise be.
What was currently happening in front of me blew everything I’d thought I’d known out of the water. No matter how much I might have tried to deny it, I’d just watched a man come back from the dead and two others shape-shift into a lion and a wolf.
Most people in my position would have screamed or fainted. And maybe I would have done exactly that or at least made another attempt to escape had my would-be rescuer, the werewolf... person not been shot down by the arrogant asshole from earlier.
“Not feeling so cocky now, are you?” Mr. Generic Obnoxious Villain taunted the werewolf as the latter writhed on the floor in agonizing pain. “It’s amazing what a little shot of silver can do for someone’s clarity.”
Silver? So that part of the stories was true? If so, what other things I had deemed myths were actually facts? Most importantly, how could I use my new knowledge?
As I contemplated my dilemma, the asshole reached the werewolf’s side. “It’s almost a shame to have someone so fascinating die such an ignoble death,” he said. “I wouldn’t have minded having the werewolf-turned-guardian join us. But it would appear that you can never understand the value of what I offer. You’ve made your choice and picked your side, and everybody has to pay the price for their actions.”
I might not have understood the context of this battle, but I understood enough to realize what fate Mr. Generic Obnoxious Villain had in mind for his now vulnerable opponent. It wasn’t exactly rocket science, considering the fact that the dickhead was already pointing his gun at the injured werewolf once again.
That wasn’t happening on my watch.
The asshole had pulled his weapon out of his jacket before he’d shot the werewolf, while my would-be savior had been fighting his feline opponent. Simple extrapolation told me that the guy who had been next to me—whose throat the werewolf had slit—might be carrying similar equipment.
Without allowing myself to hesitate, I dropped to my knees and riffled through the dead man’s clothes. I didn’t have a lot of time at my disposal. For all I knew, this person might awaken from his apparent death as well, or his friends would realize I was still around to be snacked upon. The lion remained nearby, and while he’d gotten distracted by the asshole’s intervention, it would still take him only a couple of seconds to kill me if he decided to target me again.
Thankfully, my original guess was proven correct, and I managed to find the weapon I was looking for in record time. My hands shook as I extracted it from the dead man’s jacket. The pistol was heavy, nothing like any gun I had seen in my life. It certainly didn’t help that my sole experience with firearms was limited to the occasional bout of laser tag with Diane, Pierce and his extended group of friends. To make matters worse, I also wasn’t sure Mr. Generic Obnoxious Villain would be as affected by the weapon as the werewolf had been. However, I didn’t have any other options, and I was not going to let my would-be rescuer die as long as there was still something I could do.
Clutching the gun in a tight grip, I got up and took a deep breath. For a few seconds, my gaze met the fevered, pained eyes of the werewolf. Something in my mind seemed to click, and despite my complete lack of understanding of how this particular gun worked, I found it easy to remove the safety, aim, and shoot.
The recoil of the weapon was stronger than I expected, which was odd, considering that, as far as I knew, heavy guns had less recoil than light ones. It jarred my wrists and sent me staggering back. Even so, I didn’t lose my balance and didn’t feel any discomfort at all. This was fortunate since it meant I got the chance to see the results of my efforts.
Despite my shoddy aim, I had, through some kind of miracle, hit my target in the ideal spot, the exact same one the werewolf had targeted earlier when he’d literally torn a man’s chest open.
My feat wasn’t nearly as graphic, or as messy. In fact, it was almost funny, because in the movies, whenever someone was shot, they’d always dramatically reach for their wound and observe the blood now staining their hands. No such thing happened in this case. Mr. Generic Obnoxious Villain collapsed like a puppet with his strings cut, the gun sliding out of his limp fingers and clattering to the floor with a dull thud.
For a few seconds, time seemed to freeze. The man’s entourage—everyone who had not disappeared into the depths of the club, at least—stared at the sight of their fallen leader in disbelief. Then, like one being, they all turned toward me, at the exact same time, their unblinking eyes fixing me with piercing, unnerving intensity.
With a dose of distant hysteria, I realized they reminded me a little of the lemurs in those nature documentaries I watched on Discovery Channel when I was in the mood for something different. Unfortunately, I suspected that these particular creatures were somewhat more dangerous than their fluffier counterparts, and the extent of the damage they could inflict to a human far greater.
By now, their eyes were glowing with an eerie, threatening light that should have sent me running in terror and desperation. I held my ground, clutching the gun like a talisman even if I knew I couldn’t shoot them all in time to save my life. Trying to run would not help me. I would not be fast enough. At the very least, this way, I’d go down fighting.
I had just killed a man and I was about to die. What a way to spend the evening. If ghosts existed as well, I was definitely coming back to haunt Diane in vengeance.
I refused to show any fear or to let them see that they were affecting me in any wa
y. It was stupid, but sheer defiance made me speak out again. “I’d apologize, but I think we all know I wouldn’t mean it. Why don’t we take a step back and retreat to our separate corners, hmm? I think there’s been enough bloodshed tonight.”
I doubted that approach was going to work, and indeed, it didn’t. The only thing I managed to accomplish through it was to stir the group into action.
In one single instant, the lemurs seemed to turn into a pack of feral dogs, a poor simile, perhaps, considering the whole shape-shifting thing I had just witnessed. They lunged toward me, and I had just enough time to aim and shoot the three people closest to me before everything turned chaotic all over again.
All of a sudden, another figure popped up by my side, shoving me out of the way and attacking the asshole’s cronies in my stead. Miraculously, I didn’t trip or fall over, but that didn’t leave me any less confused when an all-out battle erupted around me.
Once again, everyone appeared to prioritize, and the lone normal person with a gun was ignored in favor of handling the far more serious threats. On a regular day, I would have felt offended at being looked down upon, but right now, their superiority complex—or whatever the hell it was—helped too much for me to feel anything except relief. Since I’d always been practical, I was not above taking shameless advantage of these fortunate, if unexpected circumstances.
I dropped to my knees and crawled between the legs of the fighters, half-expecting someone to grab me and tear my throat out any moment now. For some reason, it just didn’t happen, but neither could I make my way to the exit. In truth, I didn’t put too much effort into it at all, since my concern lay in an entirely different direction, that of the still knocked out werewolf.
At one point in the past couple of minutes, my would-be rescuer had stopped writhing and convulsing, but I wasn’t sure that was a good thing. At least the seizing had signaled the fact that he was still alive. Complete motionlessness reminded me an awful lot of the damage I had done to the asshole and his cronies.
