by Morgan Hawke
Thorn was knocked off her feet. She yelped and fell into the straw. She leaped back onto her paws, but her hole through the floor of the train was gone. She snarled in fury. Son of a bitch…!
The click of a lock and the rattle of chains announced that the box was being opened. “The train is under attack. We must leave now.”
Thorn froze. The train was under attack? What was this, the American Wild West?
On one side of her box, the panel and bars slid partway to the side, leaving a small space.
Thorn rushed for it, shoving her long, narrow head through and then her shoulders. She made it all the way out and was brought to a sudden choking stop that swung her all the way around to sit back on her haunches.
Two things became immediately apparent. The first was that she had indeed been kept in a boxcar. It was crammed with shipping boxes and crates. And the other was that she had been brought to a halt by a dog’s choke chain around her throat that was attached to a bright silver chain leash.
The leash’s end was in Belus’s gloved hand, with a goodly length of it wound around his wrist. He smiled from under a smoke-gray top hat set on his long dark curls. His eyes were those of a normal human, if a rather brilliant blue. A gray scarf was carefully tucked within the curly furred lapels of his floor-length, ink-black fur coat, and he carried a thick blackthorn walking cane crowned with a winding silver serpent. He snorted. “Well, now, that was completely predictable.”
Thorn laid her ears back and bared her teeth. Every hair on her body bristled. How dare he put her at the end of a chain like a dog? She lunged.
Belus raised his heavy cane. “No!”
Thorn’s body locked up, forcing her to an abrupt skittering stop. Huh? She backed away and then trotted to one side and then the other at the end of the chain, snarling with the urge to attack, but she just couldn’t make herself do it.
Belus’s brows rose. “Sit.”
Thorn sat. She didn’t want to; her body just did it all on its own. Squatting on her haunches, she glared at him and trembled in fury. She didn’t know what the hell had just happened, but she knew very well who to blame.
Belus smiled. “Well, well, this obedience chain actually works on werewolves! How pleasant.” He lifted his chin. “Listen, and obey! You are not to bite me or make any other attempts to harm me in any way. Nor are you to make any attempt to remove the chain. Is this understood?”
Obey…my ass! Thorn growled but nodded her head once. She understood all right. She understood perfectly that she would find a way off this chain, and once she did, he was lunch.
Belus nodded. “Good.”
Something heavy hit the door to the next train car.
Belus turned and frowned at the door. “And that would be our cue to exit. I’ve bolted the door, but I doubt that will last long.” He tucked his cane under his arm and swayed toward her. “It seems that plague has been unleashed on this train.”
Thorn skittered out of his way. The plague, as in, the walking dead? He had to be kidding!
Belus moved right past her. “And so we must leave before we arrive at our destination.” He leaned down and started unbolting the heavy cargo door on the side of the boxcar.
Something slammed into the door, powerful enough to rattle it. It was followed by scratching, more heavy banging, and hideous moaning.
Every hair on Thorn’s body stood. He wasn’t kidding.
Heavy thumps like footsteps sounded on the rooftop right above them.
Thorn’s ears rose, and she looked straight up. She hadn’t thought the dead could climb!
Belus shoved, and the cargo door rolled, clanking and grinding sideways, opening a few feet. A bitter wind full of flying snow whirled into the car. “A human might not survive a jump from a moving train.” He turned to look at her. “But, then, neither you nor I are human.” His human semblance faded. While the shape of his face remained unchanged, his eyes became large, perfectly round, and slitted, and his dark curls became a mass of long, slender feathers. The slightest pattern of scales marked his hairline.
He rose, the hem of his coat lifting from the floor, revealing the heavy black snake coils that made up the lower half of his body. He gripped the door with his gloved hands and shoved hard.
The door slid open all the way with a hard clanking slam, revealing a swiftly passing forest marching up a steep hillside, covered in deep snow.
An eerie howl echoed from the night.
Thorn knew that howl. Max…. It sounded like Belus’s plan to draw the insane werewolf was already working. But how the hell had he found her?
Belus turned to her and held out his hand, his long nails extending through the fingertips of his gloves. “Thorn….”
A gunshot exploded directly overhead. Something thumped hard on the roof.
Belus looked up, smiling sourly, and tucked his cane into the belt of his coat. “Apparently some of the passengers are still alive.” He turned to her. “Though not for long.” He ducked low and grabbed Thorn around the chest and haunches.
Thorn yelped in surprise. What the…? She twisted in his hold, snarling, but she just couldn’t make herself bite him.
Belus locked his arms around her, digging his fingers into her fur. “Stop!” He bared his long, slender fangs, showing his annoyance. “Do not fight me. I do not wish to accidentally strangle you on the chain when we fall.”
Thorn stopped struggling, her snarls dying to low rumbling growls. It was not her intent; she wanted to bite him so badly her mouth was practically foaming, but her body refused to cooperate. Stupid leash…!
“Good.” Belus easily lifted her in his arms, as if she were a pup. His body tensed, his coils winding into a tight spiral under him. He looked out the door into the night, watching the forest ahead of them. “Ah, there….” He launched them off the train and into the snowy night.
Thorn was thrown hard against Belus’s shoulder. Behind them, crouched on the curved roof of the rapidly passing train, was a huge shadowy figure, a long cape streaming behind him….
Locked together, Thorn and Belus slammed into a snow-bank at the base of a fairly steep embankment.
Thorn rolled free of Belus’s arms but was brought up short by the chain about her neck that was attached to his wrist. She rose to her four paws and shook the snow from her fur.
Belus rose upright, wiping snow from his coat. “Well, that was less than pleasant.” He retrieved his top hat from where it hung at the center of his back by a string buttoned into his coat collar, and set it on his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold pocket watch. The lid flipped open, and he peered at the watch face, frowning. “We need to attain some distance rather rapidly.” He looked over at the still-passing train and then turned to face the trees and raised his cane, pointing. “The most direct route into town is that way.” He swayed across the snow up the embankment, leaving a shallow curving trail in his wake.
Drawn by the chain around her neck, Thorn had no choice but to follow.
Belus moved surprisingly fast uphill across the top of the snow and among the trees—far faster than a man could run, even on a flat, smooth surface.
Thorn loped at his side.
A massive explosion brightened the night and shook the ground under Thorn’s feet. She yelped and spun to look back. Beyond the trees, a towering fire lit the night.
Belus checked his pocket watch. “Ah, right on time.” He smiled, closed the watch and then led her deeper into the trees at a far slower pace. “In case you are interested, that was the train’s engine that just exploded.”
Thorn danced to the side in shock. The train?
Belus tucked his cane under his arm and shoved his gloved hands deep into his pockets. “I noticed that there were a high number of infected passengers with more than a few already dead in their seats. I decided it might be best if that train did not reach its destination.” He tilted his head in a slight shrug. “And so an explosion. Any of the dead or infected that endured the c
rash will immolate themselves in the resulting fire.”
Moving at his side in a long-legged trot, Thorn glanced over at him, ears up. He’d decided this? He blew up the train? Who the hell was he to do something like that? What about anyone that might not have been infected? She laid her ears back flat and growled.
Belus smiled down at her. “You do not approve?”
Thorn snapped toward him. Hell, no, she didn’t approve of mass murder!
Belus looked ahead and lifted his chin. “Even though I saved the town ahead from an invasion of the walking dead?”
He had a point. Thorn dropped her head low. Damnit, now she didn’t know what to think. She just didn’t like the idea of innocent people being hurt.
An eerie howl echoed in the distance.
Thorn stopped and looked back through the trees.
Belus snorted. “Oh, was that a friend of yours?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
Thorn curled her lips, showing her teeth. That wasn’t funny, you bastard. Maybe she should show him how bad his joke really was. She raised her right front paw and dragged it through the snow, making a line, and then another. And then another…
Belus moved behind her to look at what she was doing, and his brows rose. “You’re writing?”
Thorn snorted. She couldn’t talk to him in this shape, and it was too cold to assume her human form, so this was the best option. It was awkward as hell, but she succeeded in making the letters MAX in the snow without stepping on it too badly.
Belus frowned. “Max…?” He looked over Thorn. “That…was the plague beast?”
Thorn nodded her entire head carefully in the human manner.
Belus grinned, showing his long, slender fangs. “Excellent!” He turned and slammed the end of his snake’s tail across the word, cutting the name in half.
Thorn jumped back to the very end of the chain.
Grinning, Belus lashed his tail across the snow, wiping the word from the snow. “Once I have the name of the heretic from the plague beast, the end of this hunt will be very swift.”
She stared at him. Belus actually thought he was going to talk to Max? She could have sworn she’d told him that Max was insane, not to mention a man-eater.
“Well, then, Thorn.” Belus coiled his tail back under his long coat and tugged on the chain, drawing her close. “Shall we find a cozy spot for a nice long chat?” He looked toward the trees and smiled. “Let’s see, on this side of town…? Ah, yes, I believe I know just the place!” He led her among the trees, humming a jaunty tune.
A chat? Trotting at his side, Thorn flicked up one ear at him. Obviously Belus was just as crazy as Max.
At the top of a steep hill was a massive crumbling building. Shattered spires rose above the winter-bare trees and scraped the roiling, cloudy sky.
“There it is.” Belus nodded. “This will do very well indeed.” He towed her up the hill toward it.
Thorn’s first impression was that it was an abandoned monastery. The rambling building was that spread out. However, once they cleared the last of the trees, she could see that it was a burned-out, brick-walled factory at least eight stories high that went on for several acres. What she had taken for spires were in fact artistically twisted and blackened brick chimneys. Traces of the decorative tin roof clung to what was left of the upper stories. The wind moaned through shattered windows.
It had to be the creepiest building she’d ever seen.
Belus led Thorn along the devastated building’s side, passing abandoned pipes and crumbled brick walls. He shoved open a scorched and battered door and proceeded into the half-lit darkness with obvious purpose.
The interior was a maze of narrow, scorched hallways and large rooms filled with the rusted hulks of shattered machinery. The warped tile floors were littered with broken glass, burned bricks, plaster peelings, and tumbled furniture.
Thorn followed Belus up a tilted marble stairwell to the very center of the broad and nearly empty floor above. The floor planks creaked alarmingly.
Belus nodded and then reached down to pat Thorn on the head. “Now, to prepare the stage….”
Thorn snapped at his hand.
Belus leaned down to catch her by the head. “Thorn….” His nails dug into the fur of her ruff, forcing her to meet his snake-slitted eyes. “Be very glad your vampire has officially claimed you. I would take a great deal of pleasure in training you to proper obedience.”
Thorn bared her teeth. She would take a great deal of pleasure in eating him at the earliest opportunity.
He released her and moved away, drawing her after him. “Let’s see, where shall we begin? Ah, I know…with warmth.” He shivered. “This body is not suited for winter.”
27
In the very center of the abandoned factory’s second floor, Belus drew a circle on the floor with the heel of his cane, leaving a trail of pale blue light.
Thorn followed him, nose down, trying to see how he was making light spill out of his cane, but she couldn’t figure it out.
Belus completed his circle and then reached into the pocket of his floor-length black fur coat and pulled out a small yellow ball. He held out the ball before him and glanced at Thorn. “Stay back. I wouldn’t want all that lovely silver fur to get singed.”
Thorn’s tall ears rose. Singed? She stepped away, moving behind him as far as the chain would allow.
Belus tossed the ball into the blue circle. The ball stopped in midair about an arm’s length from the floorboards. He called out a short guttural word. Fire erupted around the ball, creating a miniature sun the size of a human head that floated in midair.
Thorn jumped back, her tail low. Holy shit!
Belus held out his gloved hands and sighed. “Much better….” He reached back into his coat pocket and pulled out what looked like a coil of extremely fine wire. “Now, then, to create my trap.” He looked down at Thorn and frowned. “Hmmm…I can’t afford any accidents, so…Thorn, sleep!”
Between one breath and the next, blackness crushed Thorn under. She never even felt the floor hit her cheek.
“Thorn, awaken.”
Thorn groaned and opened her eyes to firelight and the distant ceiling of a shattered factory. The floor was hard under her bare back. Somehow she’d reassumed her half-wolf form while she’d been asleep. She wasn’t cold, though. She had been laid out close to the floating fire, and a thick fur coat had been tossed over her naked form.
“How very interesting.” Belus smiled from where he was seated on a slightly charred chair only a stride away. He was dressed like any other gentleman in a crisp black shirt and a neatly tied and starched black neck cloth tucked under a steel-gray waistcoat, with a black frock coat to cover it all. Well, the top half of him was. The bottom half coming out from under his coat was all shiny black snake. His heavy cane lay across his lap. “Apparently this is your natural form.”
Thorn eyed Belus’s clothes and realized it was his coat that covered her, but the damned chain was still around her neck and attached to Belus’s wrist. She sat up and grabbed her head with her hands. “Ow…shit.”
Belus tsked. “I suppose I did put you to sleep rather fast, but I could not afford to have you wandering about my heels while I set the wire.” He lifted his gloved hand and gestured outward.
Clutching the coat to her bare breasts, Thorn turned to look.
Marching up the long floor were four rows of flat-sided brick pillars that supported what was left of the ceiling. Thorn had to squint, but she could just make out light glinting on what looked like spider webbing strung between the four pillars that surrounded them. “What is that?”
“I believe the modern phrase is monofilament wire.”
Thorn frowned and tilted her head to see more glints of light. There was a lot of it strung back and forth between the encircling pillars. “It doesn’t look very…threatening.”
“Which is why it makes such a wonderful trap.” Belus chuckled. It was not a pleasant sound. “I advise you, q
uite strongly, to avoid straying too close. It is derived from silver and designed to cut anything that comes in contact with it, especially creatures of enchantment.”
Thorn turned to look at him. “But it’s so thin….”
Belus smiled broadly. “I assure you, one thread could cut a man in half. I’ve seen it do so.” He waved at her. “If you would be so kind, I need you to call the plague beast.”
Thorn rose up on her knees. “Call him?”
Belus lifted his chin. “Howl, my dear Thorn, as loudly and for as long as you can. Now.”
A shimmer of white fire sizzled in Thorn’s bones, and she slid into her wolf form and rose to her four paws. She raised her muzzle and howled toward the rafters of the old factory. The long and bittersweet sound sailed high and traveled across the sky like the call of a hawk.
She called again, and then again…
A piercing howl that was closer to a shriek finally answered her.
Thorn slid back into her half-human body. “He’s coming.” She grabbed for the coat and set it about her shoulders. It stank of snake, but she really didn’t want to be naked in front of Belus. “He’s pretty close, actually.” She snorted. “His voice doesn’t carry far.”
“Excellent!” Belus reached into his coat pocket. “Your throat must be parched.” He pulled out a silver embossed hip flask and held it up. “Do not drop it. The interior is glass.” He tossed the flask toward her.
Thorn caught it by reflex. “What’s in it?”
“Water.” Belus’s smile turned sour. “I cannot drink spirits.”
Thorn stared at the flask in her palm. Howling had dried out her throat. She unscrewed the top and sniffed. It smelled like water. She took a careful sip. It tasted like pure water. She upended it and drank down three swallows, emptying it. All of a sudden she realized she’d tasted water that pure before. She stared at the emptied flask in her hand. That bastard…! She looked up at him and curled her lip, showing one long fang. “This wasn’t water.”
“Aquinas is indeed water.” Belus smiled. “Merely a very special kind.” He tilted his head to the side. “However, the few pitiful swallows in that flask will do no more than calm you.” He shook his head and sighed. “It was all I could carry on short notice.”
