by Lily Luchesi
Suddenly, the three of them had a chill down their respective spines, a rare occurrence for werewolves, unless there was a ghost around. Ralph, as the pack leader, got ready to change into his wolf form.
A beautiful blonde woman appeared out of the shadows. She was about 5‘10”, with a sexy smile and wide, honest green eyes. Her skin was as pure and as pale as snow, and her lavender silk dress seemed out of place in the woods.
“Who the Hell are you?” Ralph asked. “Why are you here?”
“My name is Fiona Guilfoyle. I am here because I heard your needs. You require the power to conquer the werewolf race and overtake the Paranormal Investigative Division of the FBI, am I correct?”
Her brogue was enchanting. All three weres found themselves in its thrall. The lure of power had as much, if not more pull than a vampire’s glamour.
“And how do you intend to help us?” Ralph wanted to know.
“I am not an ordinary person, Mr. Howarth. I can give you what you desire, but it will cost you,” she said.
Ralph knew there was a catch. “What do you want from us, and how will you give us the power we need?”
“In the early 1900s, I came up with a spell that draws out the maximum potential of all shapeshifters, but it has its own drawbacks. It will shave ten years off your natural life, due to the amount of energy it will take from you. Most werewolves live to be a healthy one hundred and fifty. You will live to be about one forty. The other thing is that you will stay transformed until you die. Small prices to pay for power over all your kind,” she said.
“That can’t be all that it is going to cost us,” the girl said, obviously not believing anything was that easy..
“No, you’re right. Once I grant you your new abilities, you will need to do two things for me.” In the air, two photos appeared, shimmering like magic. One was of a beautiful vampire and the other was an older, good-looking man.
“This is Angelica Cross, a dhampir. I want you to kill her. This is Jonathan Price, though he goes by Daniel Mancini now. I want you to capture him and bring him to me. Failure to do so will result in your deaths.” She waved her hand, and the photos vanished. “What do you say?”
They looked at each other, sharing that mental telepathy all wolves—shifters or natural—shared. They nodded in unison.
“Fine. We’ll do it.” Ralph stepped up, the pack’s Alpha.
Fiona smiled, her eyes alight. She snapped her fingers and a contract appeared. It rolled out below, landing from her waist to the ground. “You’ll all need to sign it. In blood.”
One by one, the wolves pricked their fingers and used the blood to sign their names at the bottom of the contract.
“It is done.” Fiona began to chant in the ancient Irish language, Gaeilge, reciting the spell that would change them permanently.
Danny watched in horror as their bodies began to contort. First, hair grew on their arms, chests and faces. Then, their eyes turned wider and became yellow. Their mouths widened and fangs sprouted from their gums, spouting blood like leaky faucets. Their hands grew hair and became padded, but did not turn into actual paws, and their nails widened into claws, also spouting blood.
Their backs narrowed, and then widened, the muscles and bones realigning themselves. Their lower appendages were completely wolf-like, tails and all, but they remained on two legs. The bones popped, snapped and reconnected themselves. Each of them grew, which made for more bone popping and muscle stretching. The bones sounded like muffled gunshots. He could even hear the muscles contracting, like the exaggerated stretching sounds they used to have on Saturday morning cartoons.
They all howled in pain. They felt like their very bones were bleeding, though anyone on Earth knew that bones can’t bleed. Had they been closer to society, their screams mixed with howls would’ve had the local police on them in three seconds flat.
Danny knew he would forever hear those unnatural sounds in his ears every night when he went to sleep. The popping, stretching, the snapping—it all echoed threefold in his ears. Their agonized howls. Was power really that important that they’d go through such horrific pain to attain it? He knew the only reason he’d go through something that torturous was for someone he loved, not for personal gain.
They all collapsed on the ground, conscious but drained.
“I will give you one week to get used to your new bodies and abilities. After that, I will give you the location of Jonathan’s house. Catch him, and Angelica is sure to come the rescue. Then you can kill her. Farewell. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
“Wait.” Ralph called, panting. “How will we get in contact with you when we get him in our clutches?”
“I will find you. I can track my magic. Bennacht.” Fiona disappeared in a plume of black smoke.
Danny smelled something peculiar, and then was thrust back into the present.
****
“Danny? Hey, you with us?” Angelica lightly tapped Danny’s pale face. The trip into the wolf’s memory must’ve really taken its toll on him. She felt bad that she’d put him, in his weakened condition, into a position to be harmed.
“Damn. That was…intense.” He shakily stood up, away from the struggling werewolf. “She found them in a spot in the Wolf Road Woods in Willow Springs. I don’t know how. She didn’t say, and they didn’t ask. She made them sign a contract in blood to seal the deal on their new powers. And I smelled something weird. I don’t know what.”
“Could you find the spot again?” Angelica asked.
He nodded. “It’s clear as if it’s my own memory.”
“We all need a rest. I might have a plan. Let’s meet back here tomorrow at sunset. Right now, I need to do some research, and Danny, you really need to finish healing.” Angelica had the guards take Ralph away.
****
Miranda just watched mutely as everything happened. When had Danny gotten those powers? Is that why he dreamed of Angelica? Because he saw her in visions? What triggered them? Did he ever have visions of her? So many questions, so little time to ask them.
Chapter Six
Danny left the PID offices with Miranda in tow. He was feeling drained, and all he wanted was to sleep. There was little chance of resting with Miranda around. He had forgotten about her persistence, which would’ve made her a great prosecutor, but a very nagging wife.
At that moment, he noticed she still wore the engagement ring he’d gotten her. It should have made him happy to know she had held their love so close for so long, but it only made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly, but it did.
“When did you get those powers, Danny?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she asked again.
“Look, I’m tired. Can we talk about this another time?” he asked, getting into the elevator to get to his car.
“Danny, I have been dead to you, literally, for over two decades. So much has happened with you. I want to know everything,” she said.
He sighed. “Fine. But I need to eat. Can you handle the smell of human food?” Wow. It made him feel sick just asking her that.
She nodded, and he went to a Japanese restaurant he’d always frequented back when he was a cop. He ordered a lunch box, though it was dinnertime, and she did as well, just to not seem conspicuous.
“How did you discover you had those powers to see into the past?” she asked almost immediately.
Yep. She really was just a pain in the ass. Now that she was back in his life, he wondered why he had ever loved her. He wanted someone with heart, spirit and who had a conscience. Someone who cared more for the people in her life than herself. Someone full-bodied, sexy and smart. He refused to acknowledge just whom it was he was describing to himself.
“I may have always had them. Angelica told me that I just discovered them after admitting to myself that things like precognition are real. I’m clairvoyant and clairsentient, but my specialty is psychometry. The ability to get memories, energy, or premonitions from touching different
objects or people. She says most people with these abilities are born with them, but some get what is called ‘Awakened’ later in life. I’ve been training for about a year now, using it in different ways to enhance my own life, even while not associated with the PID,” he said. “She’s clairsentient and clairaudient, abilities that full vampires can’t have.”
“I don’t care much about her half-breed abilities,” she said, crossing her slim arms.
“Fine. What else do you want to know?” he asked, dipping his chopsticks into his noodles.
“Are these abilities also present in your dreams?”
He nodded. “I’ve had some very frightening ones in dreams. Ones I don’t care to rehash, if you don’t mind.”
“Fair enough. Why did you dream of Angelica when we were living together? Was it because your subconscious knew you’d meet her one day?”
Danny had forgotten that Miranda had complained about him dreaming of another woman and talking about her in his sleep.
“Wow…that is a very long story. I had totally forgotten about those old dreams. It has to do with why Fiona called me Jonathan Price. You see…I am the reincarnated version of Jonathan Price, a professional hunter born in the late 1800s. I didn’t know this until last year, but since then, I have…acquired many of my old memories.
“Fiona is insane. She seems to have cursed herself with true immortality. Angelica killed her last year, and she came right back like nothing had happened. She wants to eliminate all paranormal creatures and make this a world run by witches and warlocks, overtaking the human race. But before that, she wanted the one thing she could never have or take by force. Me. I was married, and she decided if she couldn’t have me, no one could. So she gave me stomach cancer, and I died in the 1920s.” He quieted, remembering his own death and the pain on Angelica’s face. It had been a look of total despair and still broke his heart, a century later.
“What does that have to do with Angelica?” Miranda asked.
“She was the one I married. Her bloodline is apparently ancient, and that means that she can’t be killed by black magic. So when Fiona realized that she couldn’t kill Angelica, she killed me instead.”
“How did you and Angelica find each other now?” she questioned, her voice weak.
Danny began that tale, which was still difficult for him. It was his ruination, his rebirth in a way, and his toughest case ever. As he talked, he lost his appetite. It was one thing to talk about his strange powers, but another to talk about the death of Camille, his near death experience, and the two years he’d spent nearly suicidal.
“I didn’t know the whole story until the case ended, and she gave me an old photograph. My psychometry is what helped fill in my memory. By then, she and I were not on speaking terms.”
“Oh? Why?”
“She never told me she was a vamplet. She maintained that she was human. I mean no disrespect, but I am not fond of the Undead. I’m only working with the two of you because I am not going to be a victim in this case. All I want is to forget about vampires, witches and everything else.”
That must’ve hurt. He was sure that Miranda felt she wasn’t any different as a vampire than she’d been as a human, and that he was just soured by dealing with one killer vamp and one lying vamp. She was wrong, however. She was different, very different.
They left the restaurant, and she said, “I’m so glad we found each other. I know this isn’t ideal for you, but all I thought about since I was exiled in France was coming home to you.”
He was about to respond when his phone beeped with a text from Angelica.
“Hurry back. We have a problem…”
He and Miranda rushed to the PID offices, where Angelica was pacing back and forth, waiting.
“What happened?” Danny asked.
“That woman is truly diabolical. It’s dead. The shifter is dead.” She was fuming. “My plan is ruined. I almost had it all figured out.” She whirled and whacked at the door behind her, making a huge, gaping hole in the thick cherry wood.
He saw her knuckles start to bleed. Despite immediate threats to his physical well-being, Danny went and instinctively grabbed Angelica’s arm to stop her from hurting herself or another piece of furniture by closing his hand over her fist. She jumped when his hands enveloped hers. She obviously knew she was being infantile, but it was still too much for her to handle, being bested by that witch again. Danny understood that.
“Hey, come on, calm down,” he said quietly. “Tell us what happened.” He gripped her shoulders as she let out the tension that had been building the last fifteen minutes. He always calmed her down.
“I went in to talk to the werewolf about a possible infiltration attempt into Fiona’s plan. We were talking with the guards and lab techs right outside when it suddenly began to sweat profusely. I asked it if it was all right, and it just nodded. Not exactly the best show of confidence. So I started to talk again, but when it began to pant. I knew there was something wrong because we keep it cool in here, as vamps and shifters can’t handle heat. I called the lab techs in, and they grabbed it as it convulsed, foaming at the mouth.
“They put it down on the floor and started to administer some kind of treatment to it, but it got worse. God, it was so disgusting. Its heart exploded right out of its chest. They’re still cleaning the exam room. It was like a cartoon. I could see the outline of its heart through its skin and fur, pulsing.
“They gave it an injection to slow the heart, but it didn’t work. Its eyes bulged out, and its veins were like inner tubes. Blood vessels burst in the whites of its eyes as they began to leak blood. It howled. I thought the glass would break it was so loud. We could all hear its heartbeat, even the humans. We could all see it, too. I swear, I have never in my life seen anything like it.” She sat down in an office chair, her head in her hands. Her skin was slightly rashed from being hit with werewolf blood. “The heart exploded out of its chest. Blood, muscle, and bone was everywhere.”
“What do we do now?” Danny asked.
Angelica looked up at him, her eyes red. “We find the bitch and we kill her…for good this time.”
****
How do you find a witch who leaves no energy trail for the vampires to follow? Danny pondered the question that night as he finally made it home and found that he couldn’t sleep a wink.
He wasn’t a very tech-savvy man, but he owned a laptop and tablet, which meant he had all the knowledge in the world at his fingertips. Logging into his laptop, he Googled witch lore, but realized he had no idea what was true and what was all Macbeth bullshit. He stayed up until he saw the sun peek over the horizon, making notes and bookmarking pages for Angelica’s perusal.
Danny didn’t exactly like admitting it to himself, but he knew he was burying himself in work more than usual to keep himself from thinking about Miranda. There hadn’t been a moment’s rest since he found out that she had been “alive” all this time, hidden away from her family and her home until everyone died. What a horrible existence it must’ve been for her. And it had changed her, he could tell. What he couldn’t tell for sure was, did the experience change her, or was it being a vampire that made her so hard-eyed and indifferent?
He had loved her once, but the love he had once had for Angelica made that seem like a schoolyard crush. He knew he hadn’t truly loved Miranda after all, but it looked like she still wanted him. Did she want him because she loved him or because she hungered for him like a vampire hungers for prey? What was the difference between the two in a vampire’s eyes?
Not knowing was something Danny didn’t like. He had become a detective to discover truths, and he hated being in this position. He liked facts, not mysteries. He solved mysteries, not starred in them. He did know if she wanted him, she was going to have a lonely existence because he could never in a million years love her again, whether or not she was a vampire. Not after Angelica.
****
Angelica was also unable to sleep, even as the irritating sun
rose and came into her bedroom between her black curtains. She had brought home some books from the PID’s ancient library to peruse, but nothing was sticking out at her about Fiona that she wouldn’t already know. All she could think about doing was trying to find more werewolf assassins. And since when did werewolves want to be assassins doing the bidding of witches, anyway? It didn’t make much sense to her.
Werewolves were, by nature, untrustworthy of those that weren’t of their own kind. They despised vampires, yes, but had never waged a full war on them. And they had never, ever done someone else’s bidding, no matter how much power was on the line. They also had never desired power.
So were the answers they sought laying with the werewolves or with the witch herself? Who should they seek out first? And how? Should they wait for another attack? And would that be more foolish than anything?
“Too many questions,” she said to herself, slamming a book closed. She wrote down all of her questions and ideas in her tablet and then put it away. She was exhausted, but first she needed some blood to keep her going. She’d already had enough human food to keep that side of her healthy, but she’d forgotten blood that day.
As she waited for the microwave to warm it up, she thought about the last time she’d drank straight from the vein, after Jonathan Price had passed. It had been eighty or so years, at that extreme wrestling match. She’d offered the victor, a man of about twenty-four with bright, wild eyes, some assistance with his wounds in exchange for blood.
He had laughed at her, and said, “And to think they call me crazy out there. What are you on, girl?”
She had smiled, flashing her fangs. He hadn’t flinched, even when her eyes had turned red. “So, you’re telling me you can heal these without me paying a fortune at a hospital for brain scans and stitches? And all you’re asking for is a little blood?”
She had said yes, and he had agreed.
Ah, the easy trust of youth, she had thought as she’d sunk her fangs into his soft skin and punctured it. His blood had been hot and sweet, with a hint of fire. She had promised herself she’d never drink from any living donor after her love had died, but she had been too hungry after the match to leave. She’d been afraid she might go too far with an innocent human. That had been safer, and she had saved the guy, whose name she had now forgotten, a lot of money on hospital bills.
