by Ben Alderson
“The symbol for the demon Abraxon,” I tell him, although I am sure he’s figured that out too.
“Your mother, and her coven, worships a demon, George.” Chad is breathless as he speaks. “That has been outlawed ever since the treaty formed.”
The night explodes with a scream so loud that we both jump to our feet. The book nearly falls from my tight grasp, but I quickly tuck it safely beneath my jacket. It should be safe there… for now.
By the time we are outside, we see the noise is coming from Savi. Her mouth is open and eyes wide as she locks onto the bright moon that hovers above the cottage. The white light bathes us all where we stand in the small clearing of pines.
Again, Savi screams, but this time it morphs into something else. Something… more. A howl. I heard this very same call after she broke into my home. But this time, it’s full of pain, not anger and determination.
Chad and I call her name, but she doesn’t look at us. Even when Chad moves closer to her and rests his hands on her shoulders, pleading for her to respond, she is silent, transfixed but the nightly orb above us, like she is a prisoner to the moon.
This can mean only one thing.
Again, she howls, and my blood curdles thick in my veins. Mixing with her mundane cry is something more. Again a growl that permeates from deep within her.
I can’t tell if it’s the moon’s rays that reflect in her wide eyes, but the golden color of her irises seems brighter than ever before. It almost overwhelms her natural crimson color.
She shivers, and her skin actually ripples like the broken stillness of a lake. She jolts upright, and in the silence of the night, we listen as each bone snaps into its rightful place.
Mother’s words echo in the back of my mind.
What have you done, boy?
Savi
The moon calls to me, and her voice is beautiful, soothing, utterly encompassing. Never using real words, only her ability to completely transcend my soul by her sheer grace, she begs me to submit to her will. And I would love nothing more than to please her.
No longer sensing Chad or George, I feel her all around me. As the clouds clear, her light shines upon everything, from the packed earth to the yellowed leaves to the bare branches which sway in the breeze. I feel her in everything all at once.
With each breath, she enters me. Slowly, she seeps into my pores, filling each and every empty space that I never realized existed within me. Until this day, I thought I was complete. I thought I was happy, at peace.
But I was wrong.
As she caresses me, whispering to me of untold power, she grants part of herself to me. But something else lingers in the deepness of my essence, and it isn’t happy. It wants power, but not her power.
It wants George.
I feel its insatiable hunger for him. Somehow, I know releasing this evil from my mortal coil and allowing it to re-enter George will result in the destruction of so much. The pain I feel whenever George is near is miniscule compared to what the rest of the world will feel if the demon becomes whole.
Abraxon.
The witches spoke of the demon, and I know part of it lingers within me now. Ever since George revived me, offering a piece of his mortality to mend my fractured soul, I felt… different. At times, I felt moody and out of control. I lashed out like a hormonal teenager. Other times, like right now, I felt at peace. These coveted moments have only been brought by the moon—I know that now.
George is walking closer to me. I do not see him, nor do I look in his direction, but I know this to be true.
Because the demon whispers when George is near, and when he’s close enough to touch, Abraxon lashes out as it aches to latch onto George once again.
It needs him. I understand that now. It needs to be whole within George so it may take control of George’s rare gifts.
But I can’t let that happen.
I won’t let that happen.
I feel someone’s grip tighten around my shoulders, but I cannot look away from the moon. I am transfixed by all that she promises me. I know the others cannot hear her whispers, for they are only for my ears.
The louder Abraxon becomes, the more soothing her voice. There is strength in her words—and only fear in Abraxon’s. He worries his control over me is fading.
And he’s right.
The moon assures me I will become strong enough to fight the internal battle I’m forced to face until my dying breath, for this was the sacrifice I made to survive the werewolf bite.
“I’m ready,” I whisper.
“Savannah!”
Chad’s use of my full name shatters my grip, and I lose concentration. He’s scared, but he doesn’t have to be. I’m under the protection of the moon now.
“Take me,” I whisper.
I’m falling to my knees, shrieking until my screams become howls. Though I bark, listening as each and every bone in my body twists and snaps, I feel no pain. Somehow, I know this is because the moon has offered me her strength. She withstands the pain so I do not have to, and her compulsion is stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced.
Chad and George are scared. I hear it in their screams as I fall onto all fours. I watch, screaming, as my hands turn to paws and my skin shreds. Beneath it lies plush, thick fur that’s the color of the midnight sky—so dark in comparison to my pale, pearlescent skin.
Almost as soon as it began, I know it’s over. The noise of bones breaking ceases, and I’m left to listen to Chad’s cries and shouts.
“Oh my goddess, Savi,” George whispers. His beautiful face is distorted by his shock. He stands beside Chad, both visibly shaking. I don’t know when they distanced themselves from me, but now, they stand so far away I ache to be near them. Only when I want to tell them it’s okay, that I’m okay, do I realize I cannot speak their language in this form, though I understand their words.
I take a cautious step forward, and Chad pulls George behind him, a clear sign of protection. He’s unsure of my restraint. After all, I am fairly reckless in vampire form, and wolves are known for their savageness.
I try to tell them that it’s really me, but my words escape my lips in growls and barks.
“Savi, if you can understand me, stop approaching. We need to know we can trust you,” Chad says. His voice is stern, but I can hear how it hitches. He wants to protect George and himself. He doesn’t want to do that by hurting me, his sister, but he fears he’ll have no choice.
I stop and lower until I’m lying down. I cannot submit to him, but I can assure him that I’m no danger. I whine, lowering my head, praying he’ll understand my meaning.
“I think she’s okay, Chad. Look at her,” George whispers.
I hear them approach. The ground shakes beneath their weight. I focus on it, transfixed by my newfound senses. As a vampire, my senses were powerful, but now that I’m in wolf form, they seem even greater.
I don’t notice how close Chad and George get to me because I’m staring at the soil, watching each speck of dirt. I’m fascinated by it. So much so, when I feel a hand tap my ear, I jerk my head upright. Chad stumbles backward, falling the ground in a heap. Before he can do something he’ll regret, I lean in and swipe my tongue across his jeaned leg.
“Fuck,” Chad says, breathless. “My heart is hammering so fast right now.” He rests his hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and George chuckles as he helps him to his feet.
“I told you she wouldn’t hurt us.” George faces me, kneeling in front of me as he smiles. “Savi would never hurt us.”
I nudge my snout into his hand, and he runs his fingers through my coat. He scratches me ear, and it is by far the most pleasurable moment of my entire existence. If this moment ever ends, I’ll be an extremely unhappy vampire-wolf. Vampolf?
As I’m chuckling internally at the word I’ve just created and taking a mental note to talk to George about it later, the wind shifts. My hair stands at end. The steady beat of a strong heart echoes in my mind. I salivate, allow
ing the drool to spill over my jaw. It splashes to the ground, and I quickly stand, throwing myself between my family and whatever hides within the shadows.
“What is it, Savi?” George asks. I feel them both beside me. Each time they move, they brush against my fur, sending vibrations that spark, jolting me alert.
I growl, a deep howl escaping my lungs just as the darkness that surrounds us is illuminated by several dozen sets of golden irises. The wolves that patrol these woods are privy to my transition, and I must wonder just what they would do with that information.
One wolf steps forward. Immediately, I recognize him as the alpha, but not because of his features or the way he carries himself, walking toward me with ease and confidence even as I bare my canines. The recognition is instinctual. Something deep within me awakens. Without hesitations, I cease my defensive nature. I calm, watching as he closes the space between us.
Lep volk. I hear the alpha’s words, but I don’t understand how.
My ear twitches and my heart races in response. I’m embarrassed by the way my body responds to him. It’s raw, animalistic. There’s a hunger there, a desire… It’s so real I can’t distinguish if it’s truly me who feels this way or if it’s some creepy wolf thing.
I hear him laugh. It’s full and hearty, though his snout never moves. In my mind, he repeats me.
It most certainly is a wolf thing, my Savi.
It feels as though the world is crashing down all around me. It’s hard to breathe, to think. My Savi? A wolf thing? The alpha is all around me. He’s in my thoughts, in my gut, in my heart. I don’t understand the pull I feel for him.
How have you found us? I think.
You are born from my bloodline, lep volk. I will always find you, he responds.
The wolves howl in response. Apparently, they too are listening, though I focus solely on the alpha. He’s invading my mind and personal space. He’s close enough to touch, and my limbs burn the closer he becomes. I ache to submit to him. I can feel it rooted deeply within me. But I’m stubborn and reckless. I refuse to submit.
In time, you will, he replies. His tone is carefree, as if he knows his words to be true.
Suddenly, the events of the last couple weeks weigh heavily on my soul. I don’t understand what’s going on. That night, George saved me. He used the darkest of magic, which has since clutched onto my essence, refusing to release me. I still feel it lurking within me, but the pain is fading. Surrounded by the strength of the moon, I wonder if I can defeat it.
Not the moon, lep volk. Your strength comes from what you are, the alpha says.
Í don’t understand what he means. I never felt more powerful than when transfixed by the moon.
No, mali volk. You are only powerful because you have accepted what you are… the alpha counters. The moon guides you, but she does not wield you.
The realization of his words come crashing down on me. If he is right, if George blended the blood of two species, creating a concoction of power by using dark magic that I’m sure has long been forbidden, then I am more powerful than I could possibly even imagine. The evil within me, left behind by George himself, may be strong, but I can defeat it. If the moon does not wield me, then I shall not grant this darkness control either.
I turn my back to the alpha, knowing he has no desire to harm me, and face George. I feel the pull of the darkness like a fire that spreads throughout my body, but in one instant, I blink, forcing it out, muffling the fire so that the pain I feel when George is near becomes nothing but embers in the ashes. Even so, I know I must be careful. This fire has not been smothered. The embers still burn bright red, and I know they are eager to bloom once again.
I feel George reach for me, running his hands through my fur. He smiles as he meets my gaze, and in that moment, I wish I could tell him that everything will be okay, that the pain is gone, and that we will make it through this… together.
But in Hillcrest, moments of peace and clarity are all too quickly extinguished.
“Hybrid.”
Her voice pierces the silence of the night, a cutthroat accusation on her lips that penetrates to my gut. Her words lash out at me, fueled by an impossible hatred for everything that I am.
In this moment, I know she will do whatever she must to end me.
It is kill or be killed.
George
Savi is warm, so warm. I run my hands through her thick, midnight-colored fur, tugging gently as I would a dog. She presses her strong neck into my touch, urging me to carry on. I sigh with relief. Finally, I can be close to her again. My presence does not seem to cause her pain while she’s in this form.
A low pleasured growl escapes from the dark abyss within her throat. I can almost hear her saying my name. I want to throw my arms around her and hold on, uncaring of the many golden irises of the wolves who watch us.
Chad still hangs back, pent up with nervous energy. I look back to him, but his own gaze is glued on the pack of wolves. Does he fear them? My mind and body lack the usual panic I should feel. I don’t know if it’s Savi’s powerful company, but with her by my side, I do not feel threatened.
Werewolf. Savi is a werewolf… No, she is more than that. She’s part wolf, part vampire. A wolfpire? Is this really real?
Mother’s voice echoes from the dark woods and solidifies my thoughts. “Hybrid,” she hisses.
Our attention snaps to the direction of the ominous voice. Growls erupt from the pack of wolves behind Savi. They sense danger as obvious as smoke in the air. Even the skin of Savi’s snout pulls back, flashing moon-white canines. Spit connects her jaws, and her furred lips quiver.
Chad lowers his stance until he is squatting on bent knees. Before I can urge him to run to take cover, the chanting begins. Mother’s voice rises above the rest.
“Hybrid! Beast! Abomination!”
The moonlight splashes across her face, illuminating her sharp, hollow features. Loose from its bun, her hair is frayed and wiry. I chastise myself for allowing Chad and Savi to leave the safety of the protection circle I cast years ago. Because now, they’ve found us.
“You’ve done this, boy, and you alone must correct your mistake.” Mother’s eyes are on me as she walks closer, not bothering to offer a glance toward Chad or the pack of wolves.
I release my grip on Savi, who is trembling. I can sense her desire to attack as if it were my own.
The coven’s chanting grows louder, filling the night with foreign words from a language long forgotten. Even I don’t recognize it, but I can tell the darkness within me does. With each word, its power increases. An intense pain cramps my stomach, and I drop to my knees, slamming against the dry forest bed. No matter how loud the growling of the wolves becomes, I still hear the chanting as the witches finish their ritual.
I muster enough energy to cry out a name—the name in Father’s grimoire, the name Mother and her coven called out when the ritual began.
“Abraxon!” I cry. My voice is rough but loud enough to get the coven’s attention. They each falter enough for Mother to reply.
“Have you read your father’s book?” she asks, her smile warping beneath the pale light of the moon. “Do you know what is to come? It is your birthright, boy, passed down by your father.”
“Demon,” I manage to say. “You’re allowing a demon to… to possess me.”
“Wrong. The demon has always been within you. We are simply finishing what you were born with, what you started.”
I started? Does she mean the power I used to bring Savi back?
“This is not my doing!” I shout.
Another jolt of agony rips through me. His eyes full of concern, Chad looks between Mother and me. I can tell he aches to run to my side, but the threat of the coven is too great. He must focus on the witches and ready himself for their attack.
“Wrong again, my boy. This is your doing. Years ago, as your father’s body lay cold beneath you, you cast a passing spell, unknowingly beginning the ritual. Your father and I pla
nned your path in this world before you were even born.”
Passing spells are common among witches. They are like living wills or letters of the deceased to humans. But instead of willing items, witches pass power, energy.
“No…” I shake my head. That is not the spell I cast. “I was trying to save him! That is what you told me to do.”
“Must I explain that you’re wrong again, George? How blind can one be to the truth? You were preoccupied with grief and panic to see that the spell I asked you to cast was in fact a passing incantation. You allowed the presence that filled your father to fill you. You’re the next generation, so you’re even more powerful than your father was. Look at the proof before us all, and see what Abraxon has allowed you to do.” Mother points at Savi, whose dark pelt stands to attention down her curved spine. “A hybrid! The first of its kind in generations. These beasts were feared and hunted centuries ago, and you have created one with little knowledge or understanding of your true potential. Your father could never dream of completing such a feat.”
I did do this.
We did this, the darkness whispers.
Abraxon.
Not darkness.
A demon.
The witches have stopped chanting, so I know the ritual is nearly complete. Thankfully, the pain has stopped, and I can focus on night and how it hums around me. I hear it clearly, like it whispers to me.
I hear the darkness within me sigh as if relieved. Hello? I ask, thundering the question around my mind.
Finally, we are one, George.
Panic rises in my chest, the burning thrill flooding my body.
“George, you are whole. Join us now. Let my coven guide you and your new power.” Mother extends a hand for me. The coven follows suit, stepping out of the shadows, and I see they have surrounded us. In a large circle, they extend both arms out beside them. No one noticed—not even Chad or the wolves.
