by Kiki Howell
“Both.”
Chapter Sixteen: Blood Moon
OTTO WALKED THROUGH the circle of shifters and stood between Tristan and Rafe.
“Quiet!”
The howling and growling suddenly stopped. “Rafe has lost his mate in a recent skirmish to this vampire. Bronwyn was one of our own. A strong and loyal shifter to the pack. Rafe has challenged Bronwyn’s killer, and that challenge has been accepted.
“The perlesh ends when one of them are dead. If one should run and desert the fight, they will be hunted down by the pack and eaten. And I will feast on your heart. I have no tolerance for cowardice.”
Otto turned to each with an intrigued smirk as he stepped to the side. “Begin!”
Tristan calculated his move, as Rafe’s eyes turned yellow. Charging towards him, he quickly grabbed him and used his momentum to toss him into the crowd. A quick kip-up to his feet, he watched a seething Rafe cut back through the crowd.
Tristan quickly went on the offensive and connected a few jabs as Rafe threw a few of his own. The wolf packed a wallop as Tristan felt his teeth rattle.
Rafe lashed out which such power that the air hummed as he missed nearly taking his head off. Tristan countered with grappling him to the ground, knowing it was more to his advantage to get a wolf shifter lower than his natural stance.
Trying to pin him, Rafe went limp and rolled away. Heaving breaths, his face was twisted in anger.
Good, Tristan thought. Rage will make you stupid or burn you out. Either way, you’ll make a mistake.
“Had enough, Fido?”
Rafe shook his head. “You have no idea who you’re fucking with, blood boy! None!” He dropped to his knees as his face distorted and elongated into a muzzle as he began to transform.
Jay stepped behind Zoë as he watched Rafe stand as a man one moment, then a beast the next. His thick chest was covered in fur, and the jeans he wore ripped at the thighs as they could no longer hold his mass.
Tristan braced himself as he watched Rafe’s teeth grow and sharpen as he morphed into a werewolf. Charging for him, Tristan slid underneath him to grab a thick log of wood within the circle. He turned just in time to shove the piece of wood into Rafe’s mouth as he loomed over to bite him.
PUNCH!
Tristan cracked his knuckles over Rafe’s animal face before Rafe started to throw blow after blow on Tristan’s face. On his back, he was forced to endure it, yet it was not as painful as he’d expected it to be.
Tristan pushed against his jaws with the wood, until he kicked Rafe in the groin and shoved him away. Rising to his feet with superspeed, Tristan kicked Rafe in the ribs repeatedly until Rafe threw a kick himself, sending Tristan flying backwards against a nearby tree. He landed with a thud. It knocked the wind out of him as the wolves cheered and howled at Rafe’s prowess. Even Rafe himself roared as he closed in on Tristan like a rabbit caught in a snare.
Tristan pulled himself up but not quick enough to escape Rafe’s grasp. Grabbing his throat, the wolf shifter raised high against the pine trunk as Tristan struggled.
“I’m going to rip you apart piece by piece and feed you to my brothers!” Rafe leaned in and bit into his arm.
Excruciating pain sent shockwaves through him, and he yelled in agony as he tore through muscle.
“No!,” Zoë yelled as her worst fear came true.
“You taste pretty good, vampire. Not like shit your kind usually gives off!” Rafe taunted with a thick, dark voice.
Tristan felt his body heat and tingle as adrenaline pumped within him. With an angered yell, he gripped the wolf’s forearms and broke them.
Yelling, Rafe backed away and turned as Tristan stalked after him. He watched his shifter bite bleed black then heal instantly. Losing his balance, Rafe dropped to his knees as he snapped his arm out to reset the bones in his left arm.
Tristan speared him to the ground and began to wail on him with a series of brutal blows until Rafe’s face was a bloody mess. Straddled over him, he sat back to catch his breath. Grabbing Rafe by the long, thick fur on his chest, he pulled him upwards.
“I don’t want to kill you, Rafe. Let’s not do this. What do you say?”
Rafe growled. One amber eye burned into him. Only hatred lived there, even in the face of imminent death. That was the pride of the Were-shifters in a nutshell after all.
“I said to the death, blood boy. You stole the only thing from me that meant anything, and I want to see Bronwyn again. Or I’ll kill—”
Tristan leaned in and tore into Rafe’s jugular with his fangs to land the mortal blow. The shifter’s blood gushed from his throat and onto Tristan’s face and skin. With bright, fuming eyes, he released the near lifeless body of Rafe and stood up.
His body in the last, twitching throes of death, Tristan looked down and shook his head.
“So be it.”
The shifters howled at the loss of their brother and beat their chest. Looking over to Otto, who walked back into the circle. He held up his hand and the forest went dead silent.
“Rafe and the vampire Tristan fought bravely, and Tristan has risen as the champion. The perlesh has ended. From here on out no strikes against the Green Girls until our parlay has ended. Is that understood?”
“Yes!” they said in unison.
“If I hear of any Were-shifters attacking Green Girls as a preemptive strike, I’ll feast on your bones!” Otto looked down at Rafe’s body. It was a true shame, really. Rafe wasn’t his best fighter or anything, but he knew the wolf since a pup and there was something surreal about seeing someone so young meet such an untimely end. At the hands of an enemy, no less.
“As for Rafe, take his body with us. Go.”
Otto stared at Tristan’s shoulder with scrutiny. Something was strange. Tristan looked far too healthy. His skin had already healed from the fight and it didn’t even look like he had been bitten.
“Why aren’t you sick?”
Tristan shook his head. “We had a deal, Otto.”
Zoë came up behind him along with Jay.
Otto nodded. “That we did. As you can see, I plan to honor it.” He looked at his watch, then the sky. “You have till 1AM to convince the witches for a sit-down meeting. No silver. No spells. Get those hot headed bitches to calm down, and I’ll entertain a conversation for us to join forces against the fangboys. No offense.”
“None taken.” Tristan extended his hand. “Thank you.”
Otto scoffed. “How did that feel in your mouth?”
“Molten silver would’ve been more palatable.”
Otto grinned. “Do not thank me just yet. I still have yet to see the light at the end of this tunnel. In either case, I’ve been entertained, even if at the expense of my people.”
“I offered him an out.”
He shook his head. “That only insulted him. Like I said, Rafe wanted a chance at vengeance and I wanted control. And you wanted neither. Now everyone’s happy.” He cut his eyes to Zoë and Jay. “A vampire, a Black Blood Slayer, and a human...” He sighed. “Sounds like a bad joke.”
They all looked at each other. Otto pulled out his phone. “You are safe to stay in this den if you prefer. Call me when you’re ready.”
Tristan nodded as Otto walked away. The others growled low, passing them, but followed nonetheless. As he turned, Zoë examined him in awe. Her hand reached out to skim the arm where Rafe bit him. The skin was flawless.
Jay frowned. “Do we need to get the transfusion kit?”
Zoë pulled away and looked into Tristan’s eyes. The transfusion had apparently an effect she hadn’t anticipated. “No. He’s healed. The shifter bite would’ve been still visible if he was infected. It would appear my blood had benefits we didn’t expect.”
Tristan wiped the wolf’s blood from his mouth and looked at his arm. “Yeah, I don’t feel anything. We need to get a hold of the witches. Tonight.”
“Yeah, you guys can count me out,” Jay protested. “I had enough shit for one night, an
d my patience will wear thin with the witch that crosses me. I’m taking my ass home.”
Jay walked between them. “If you need something other than a late night emergency blood transfusion, you know where to find me.”
Zoë turned to Tristan, who threw water over his body to wash the blood off him. His dark hair was soaked and dripping off his shoulders.
“You smell like an animal.”
Tristan scoffed. “When in Rome...” He watched her raking him over with that sultry look that turned into curiosity. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever given someone so much of my blood before. It seems it makes you stronger,” She pointed at his shoulder. “Heal faster.”
“I take it you’re more in the habit of taking blood, not giving it.” He wiped his face. “We need to find the Green Girls and talk to them.”
Zoë nodded. “The coven broke into regions, but I know one out in seventh ward. And let me do the talking.”
.
Chapter Seventeen: Vigil
ZOË DROVE UP to the house on the end of the street and parked. The minute she turned the engine off, an eerie vibe hit her. “Wait. Something’s wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Tristan asked.
She surveyed the front. “All the lights are out. Not even vigil candles outside. That never happens. Remelia’s girls would have a vigil out for her.” She slowly stepped out the truck along with Tristan.
The moment he stepped outside and took a few steps forward, he turned to Zoë. “I smell blood.”
Zoë’s heart sank. “A lot of it. C’mon!” Drawing her sword, they both ran to the front door.
Tristan broke through the door that was barricaded from the inside. Zoë ran in and exhaled a shocked gasp as she surveyed the carnage. The floors that held various sacred circles and talismans were spilled with the blood of the Green Girls. She looked around to see broken bodies and bite marks across beautiful witches of all ages.
A faint movement came from behind the wall from another room. Running over, Tristan pulled a thick pane of glass off a younger witch. Her blonde hair tied in a tight ponytail on top her head, only Zoë recognized her as one of the witches who attacked in the church.
Coughing out blood, she shook her head, groaning.
Zoë supported her head.“What happened?”
“It... happened so fast. I’m not sure who it was. They came in and tore the place apart. Said The Three sends their regards for a safer world for vampires.” She clenched her arm to her chest despite the puncture wounds on her wrist. “They... fed off everyone...”
Tears rolled off her blood stained cheeks as her eyes shifted to the right. Tristan’s eyes followed to the young girl’s face down in the corner. She couldn’t have been more than thirteen. Her cold, lifeless eyes stared out into nothingness... "even the little ones.”
The witch started to sob. “We fought with everything we had, but they were too many.”
“Let’s get you outta here.”
“No, I’m not going anywhere.” She removed her other hand from her side, revealing a large wound that free flowed blood as she released pressure. “They call me Echo.”
“Was there a large vampire with them? German accent goes by the name, Christophe? He’s been missing since Ivana’s attack. Was he here?”
Echo shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“If he did this, we have to find him, Echo.”
She extended her hand to Tristan. “I can help you. Give me your hand.”
Hesitance forced Tristan to pause just a moment before finally putting his hand in hers. She closed around it tightly, the blood on her fingers staining his.
Putting pressure on Echo’s wound, Zoë held her head in her lap as she panted her breaths, concentrating on looking through the haze of images, thoughts, and time. She thought of the name and the connection of that name to Tristan.
Grabbing her hand firm, Tristan felt the warm heat between them. Energy emitted from the witch.
“He’s... alive... hiding.” Echo gasped for breath as she closed her eyes. “In a sanctuary near Tulane.”
“Why did he hurt you?”
Echo shook her head. “He didn’t. I never met him. But... he’s waiting for you. I have to wait. But I need a chance to make this right. No peace. Pop. Pop,” Echo started to ramble off in German till she shook herself awake. "Remelia is alive. Please...” She grabbed Zoë’s jacket. “You have to save her. She’s waiting for you. I’m so sorry... we didn’t see... I didn’t see.” She started to close her eyes when Zoë shook her awake
“What didn’t you see?”
“Give me your hand.”
Zoë took her hand, feeling the chill of her grasp grow. Echo tightened her grip as she held both Tristan and Zoë’s hand. The air around them began the hum and snap as energy surrounding them started to become visible. The glowing orange energy that looped around Zoë’s waist stretched over to Tristan.
“Remelia had bound you together. She trusted you, Zoë... and Ivana... Ivana trusted you, Tristan... to end this.”
Zoë tried to calm her as she felt death take a tighter hold of the witch. Tears welled in her eyes as Echo shivered against her as the chill of death rattled her. “I’m so sorry I failed her... and you.”
Echo coughed out a laugh, more dark than weak. “We didn’t give you a chance. We made a mistake, and this is bigger than us. The war will get worse and swallow us whole. We all wanted Remelia to save us, to send us some hope. She did that. Her last gift to her coven... was you.”
A wave of energy rippled from Echo’s body and the orange energy tether disappeared, pushing Zoë and Tristan backwards. Gathering their bearings, they sat up to face a silent, lifeless body.
“Echo?”
Zoë shook her violently. “Echo?” She stared at her eyes that gazed at the eternal heavens, no longer tied to the mortal coil where she and the others suffered. The harsh sting of tears gave way to a freefall over her cheeks as she released her body. Her body shaking, Zoë started to beat her fists against the cement floor. Tristan watched quietly before standing up. Zoë scanned the room again. So much blood. So much death. Lost souls, and for what? Lies? Greedy vampire lies?
Zoë’s growl turned into a gut-wrenching roar as her skin turned all black for a split second. Her fangs drawn and seething, she mourned their loss. Her superiors didn’t understand, ir they didn’t care, but this was why she didn’t want to turn a blind eye to the war. She didn’t want to ignore Remelia’s plea to help them.
Now they were gone. Her coven was butchered. Zoë shot up to her feet, ready to burn down Sanguine Hill and have The Three’s heads on a spit.
“I’m going to fucking end this. I will watch them writhe in pain for what they’ve done!” Moving towards the door, Tristan grabbed her arm.
“Wait a minute!”
Zoë jerked her hand away. “Don’t touch me! This shit ends tonight!
Tristan grabbed her again. “Listen to me! Look, I understand that you want blood for this, but save it! We still need Otto, and we still need to find Christophe.”
“No, you need to find him. I’m going for The Three. I’m through with games. We’re no longer bound, so you do whatever you need to do alright?”
“We’re beyond that now. Don’t you get it?” Tristan pushed her as he walked past her to the door when something caught his eye on the floor.
There were times in his life where it felt the devil himself pulled a cloak over him, blinding him from the true nature of beasts and souls alike. The problem with the devil’s cloak was not that you felt discomfort when you were under it. Oh no, you actually felt calm and content there. Safe almost.
But it was once the veil was stripped, did we realize we had been blinded for so long.
Betrayal was a motherfucker. Tristan turned to Zoë, his eyes glowing with anger.
“What?”
“We have to find Christophe soon.” He bent down and picked up the small white clum
p of gum sitting in the puddle of blood. Tristan knew someone with a nasty habit of spitting out gum. Someone who also worked for The Three, just like him.
Pop. Pop.
“Why?”
Tristan showed her the monumental evidence that could fit between his thumb and index finger. He should’ve fucking known. Ambition always got the best of his kind.
“Before The Three snuffs out the only living link to Remelia.”
THE NIGHT SEEMED COLDER now. More unforgiving. Perhaps it was more of a testament to Tristan’s sentiment.
“Echo said he was in a sanctuary. I don’t know of any near Tulane University.”
Zoë walked ahead of him. “I know of one. But it’s near a different Tulane.” She got into the driver’s side. “I’ll take us there.
Zoë turned off the headlights as she turned down the alley of Tulane Ave. Quietly, she pulled to a stop roughly a quarter mile from an abandoned building of motel rooms. There weren’t any lights or people moving about, and the giant dumpster of junk made it more of a condemned building than anything else.
“Sanctuaries don’t look like this. What is this place?”
Zoë continued to walk. “A sanctuary for those who abandoned more than just their freedom. No one manages this one, so it’s truly a shithole—not just looks like one. Also, it’s not really neutral, so be on your guard.”
Tristan cocked his guns. “Agreed.”
Entering the side door, Zoë walked in first, moving through the dark hall peppered with creatures keeping their distance. The stench of mildew, rotting flesh, and bleach filled their noses as they walked through.
“Christophe?” Tristan called out as Zoë searched ahead. Moving through, he continued until he felt the tip of a blade behind his neck.
“Make one more move and I’ll take your head off where you stand.” A German voice whispered behind him. “You understand?”
“Christophe, relax. It’s me, Tristan.”
He scoffed.“I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re Jesus Christ. I don’t trust anyone anymore. The Three are lost... and so are you.”
